


Flaws

by Blackened_Wings



Series: King and Lionheart [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Attack on Camelot, Basic plot of Merlin, Hurt Gwaine, Hurt Merlin, Lots of Whump, Merlin!whump, Morgana's revenge, OC, Protective Arthur, Protective Gwaine, Saving Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:00:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 89,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4011955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackened_Wings/pseuds/Blackened_Wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin has always had awful luck. First, he's attacked in his own kingdom. But there's more trouble brewing in Camelot, and Merlin doesn't have time to die.</p><p>In which I beat on Merlin, because that's apparently the thing to do. Occurs sometime between series 4 and 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Merlin scurried up the stairs and took a sharp right as he made his way to Arthur’s rooms. It was well past time for breakfast, and Arthur was likely raging in as he waited for his servant to appear. The boy winced as he anticipated the yelling and firm chastising he was bound to receive. It wasn’t his fault Gaius had needed herbs. It wasn’t his fault that he’d run into bandits. It wasn’t his fault that he’d only returned a few hours ago and had slept less than one. It wasn’t his fault, but none of that would matter. Because the only thing he could tell Arthur was he overslept. Probably the king would throw something at him, accuse him of spending too much time in the tavern. He sighed and continued on, balancing the tray easily.  
Well. It was easy until his uncoordinated feed tripped on themselves and sent him flying. His eyes flashed as the tray flew away from him, and all the food stayed put as it lowered slowly. He didn’t, however, think to catch himself, and he knew he had a fair number of new bruises on his arms. He groaned as he pushed himself up, grabbed the tray, and kept going. Now Arthur would accuse him of having gotten into a fight at the tavern. He had the bruises to show for it, anyway.  
He didn’t bother knocking before he pushed the door open. No need to give Arthur time to grab something to throw before he could set the food down. He’d almost lost the breakfast once, he wasn’t going to do it again. He hunched his shoulders as he set it down quickly, ready for the pillow to hit him. When nothing came, and the yelling didn’t start, he risked a glance up. Arthur was sitting at his desk, running his hands through his hair. He hadn’t bothered getting dressed yet, wearing an overlarge night shirt in a faded shade of red, and his hair stuck in every direction both from the abuse it was currently getting and from being slept on. He’d hardly noticed Merlin entering, just a glance up and then a return to the paperwork setting in front of him.  
“Sire?” Merlin asked hesitantly when Arthur made no comment on his lateness.  
“What is it, Merlin?” Arthur asked, glancing up again before returning to his study. He sighed heavily when Merlin remained quiet and leaned back in his chair. “What, Merlin?”  
“What’re you studying, then?”  
“Reports. We might have some trouble brewing. What’re you doing, so late?”  
Merlin sighed inwardly. He’d half hoped the king had been so involved in his reports that he hadn’t noticed. He should have known better. He did know better.  
“No reason. Hungry?”  
“No.”  
Merlin frowned. “I’m already late, you’ve got to be hungry-“  
“I’m not, Merlin. You can go.”  
Merlin paused. “I… I can go? As in, a day off?”  
“I don’t care, Merlin, I just don’t need your distractions right now. Muck out the stables or something. Go fetch herbs for Gaius. Just go.”  
For a moment, the servant didn’t move. He stared at Arthur, who stared right back for only a few seconds before hunching over the desk again. He picked up a quill and began scribbling on a blank piece of paper, taking notes down from the reports he was sorting through.  
“Don’t you need anything?”  
“What could I possibly need?”  
“Your armor polished, your clothes washed, your floors clean-“  
“You did that yesterday, didn’t you?”  
“Well… yeah, but there’s always-“  
“Go. I’ll send for you if I need you.”  
Merlin still hesitated at the door, and Arthur threw a goblet at his head. He ducked and fled the room, although he frowned. Arthur never gave him a day off. Arthur never let him off with a question when he was late. And he was late. Very late. He hadn’t woken until the sun was well up, and then Arthur’s food had been cold and he’d had to request… it had just taken a long time to finally make it there. He was also surprised that Arthur hadn’t at least made Merlin help him get dressed before sending him away. After all, a nightshirt wasn’t exactly appropriate king attire. Perhaps Gwen would be helping him later?  
Merlin made his way back to Gaius, because he wasn’t quite sure what else he could do. While he always complained about never getting a day off, he actually wasn’t sure what to do with one. While he knew Gaius was fully stocked on herbs, maybe there was some other errand he needed run, some delivery to be made.  
He was halfway back when he ran into Sir Perth, a knight who had always been rather quiet but a proven fighter. Sir Perth had been leaning against the wall, but he stepped forward into Merlin’s path just as the boy was walking forward. Merlin stumbled back a few steps; Perth was certainly a solid man, but knights had to be. He apologized profusely and moved to walk around the knight, but Perth just moved to match. Merlin glanced up and frowned.  
“I apologize, Sir Perth, but I must be going.”  
Perth didn’t answer, just took a step forward. Merlin stepped backward, and Perth matched, until Merlin had backed himself up against a wall. He tried to dodge around the knight, but Perth put his arms on either side of Merlin and looked him in the eye.  
“Show me.”  
“Show you… what?” Merlin asked. He could feel his heart beating faster, could feel the magic swirling beneath the surface of his skin. He was both ready for anything and afraid that he needed to be ready.  
“You know what.” Perth said quietly, his gray eyes staring deeply into Merlin’s blue ones. “Show me the gold.”  
“The… gold? I… I don’t have any. If you were looking for a pay raise, you’d be better to ask Arthur, he’s the one with the treasury and-“  
“Stop playing dumb.” Merlin gasped as he felt Perth’s fist connect solidly with his stomach, but his instinctive attempt to double up was halted by Perth’s arm across Merlin’s throat. “You know what I mean. I want to see it.”  
“I- what gold? I live with Gaius, if I had gold-“  
Another solid punch to the gut. Merlin struggled as the arm against his throat pressed harder, cutting off his airway.  
“Don’t play dumb, Merlin. I know you have it. I just… I have to see it. You’ll show me, or I’ll beat it out of you.”  
“Have what-“ Merlin couldn’t regret his feigned ignorance as he felt another punch to his gut, but he really wished he could. He didn’t know how Perth had found out, and internally he was panicking. Who had told him? How had he found out? He hadn’t seen, Merlin was too careful for that, was wary of even his friends among the knights, let alone the unknowns. He knew what they all thought of magic, of sorcerers and magic beasts. Someone must have told him, Morgana or… he had a lot of enemies out there, any one of them could have put the knight up to it-  
Merlin choked for breath as Perth pressed harder.  
“I don’t need to see it. I wanted to be sure, but… it makes a lot of sense, doesn’t it? How else would you always make it through those battles with the knights? You don’t belong, you never have. You came out of nowhere and wormed your way in, close to the king. You have to be.” Perth seemed to make up his mind. “I can’t let you continue this. I have to stop you. For the good of Camelot.”  
At this point, Merlin was fighting to get air in his lungs, but he knew he didn’t have long left before he passed out. He thought he could hear footsteps coming, but that could just as easily be his heart, pounding frantically in his ears.  
The pain between his ribs was quick, sharp, too much. He made a strangled noise of protest, could feel the now warm metal pull back and the blood spill down his blue shirt. The pressure let off of his throat then, and he fell to the ground, gasping for breath. He could see the blood shooting from his mouth with every hard exhale. It was not good. Oh, it was not good. Merlin put a hand to the hole and pressed down, knowing he couldn’t do much. Not here, in the middle of Camelot. If someone saw him- He could hear the footsteps. Perth had run away, assuming Merlin was as good as gone anyway and couldn’t tell. Or perhaps he didn’t care if anyone found out. Maybe he planned to out Merlin’s magic if he lived through this, have him burnt at the stake. Why hadn’t he just done that in the first place?  
Merlin’s thoughts were swimming, probably in too much blood. He choked on a laugh as his mind filled with the image of a fish, shaped strangely like a brain, swimming in a pool of blood inside his skull. It wasn’t funny. It really wasn’t funny.  
The footsteps stopped, there was a yell of surprise. Someone rushing towards him. He wanted to see who it was, wanted to look up, but it was too much work. So much work. He waited until Gwaine was kneeling in front of him to make sure it was someone safe. Not that he could do much if Perth had wanted to give him another taste of metal.  
“Merlin-“ Gwaine didn’t bother finishing whatever he had planned to say. He yelled for help and pulled Merlin’s hands away from the wound. It was easy enough. Merlin was feeling awfully weak.  
Gwaine cursed and pulled his own shirt off, pressing it against Merlin.  
“Look at me, Merlin. Look at me.” Merlin had to work hard to focus on Gwaine’s face, which seemed strangely colorless and blurry. Or maybe that was just his vision. “Gaius is coming, just hold on a while, alright?”  
“Is Arthur alright?” Merlin muttered, although the bubbling blood in his throat must have made it hard to understand. He could feel it dripping down his chin.  
“The princess is fine, I’m sure. You’re the one I’m worried about now.”  
Merlin felt his eyes closing, but Gwaine protested so much that he pushed them open again. It was hard.  
“Be quiet so I can sleep.”  
There was insincere chuckling from Gwaine. “I don’t take orders from servants.”  
“I don’t take orders from prats.”  
“Well, the princess isn’t here, but you can take orders from me. Hey. Hey. Open. Keep ‘em open for me, Merlin, just a little longer.”  
“Tired.” He muttered, watching Gwaine’s fake smile quiver.  
“I know, mate, I know. Been there, done that. Best to stay awake.”  
Merlin tried. He really did. He kept his eyes open longer than he’d thought possible. He wanted to tell Arthur, before… if he fell asleep, he might not wake up. He knew that.

M-M-M

Arthur sighed heavily as he pushed the papers aside, laying his head on the desk. This looked bad. Really bad. Reports showed increased bandit movement all over Camelot, as well as some strange movement of armies in a nearby kingdom. Arthur knew, deep down, that it wasn’t a coincidence. That Amira was about to make her move on Camelot, and Arthur would have to fight. He didn’t want to fight Amira, they had been allies when his father had been alive. But once Uther had died… they’d become restless with the young king. Queen Amethyst was intent to move in and either make Arthur grow up or take the kingdom for herself. And by grow up, she meant do things the same way Uther always had.  
The door burst open and Arthur hardly moved. “Merlin, get out.” He said, a little too harshly, perhaps. But he didn’t need the clumsy manservant interrupting him. From his self-pity. He sighed and glanced up, only to be surprised by a panting Leon at the door.  
“Leon. What is it?” Arthur was a little embarrassed to still be wearing his nightclothes, but the look on his knight’s face told him it couldn’t have mattered less. Something had happened. Arthur immediately suspected Queen Amethyst, and his hands clenched into fists. She was going to be a real pain.  
“Merlin.” At first, Arthur didn’t understand what he’d said. He’d been expecting ‘attack’ or something of that nature. When he finally understood the word, he didn’t understand the meaning. He frowned at Leon.  
When the knight didn’t continue, Arthur demanded, “What?”  
“He… he’s been attacked.”  
Arthur didn’t need to know more. He pulled on a pair of pants that he’d worn a few days ago and happened to still be laying on the floor before taking off. Leon ran only a few steps ahead of him, and when Leon stopped, Arthur didn’t. He fell to his knees in a puddle of blood next to Merlin. Small, still, but getting larger.  
“Merlin. Merlin, who did this?”  
Gwaine backed up for Arthur, although it was only a few inches. Arthur took hold of the shirt on Merlin’s side and pressed, not bothering to look at it. He could tell it was bad without; the blood dripping from Merlin’s mouth and the paleness of his skin said it all. They needed Gaius now, or there wasn’t hope.  
“Arthur.” He said quietly, a small smile flitting on his lips. “Those pants… they… should be…”  
“You didn’t clean them yesterday. For whatever reason, you skipped them. I’ll have to make you muck out stables for a few weeks.”  
“Told me-“ Merlin’s eyes shut for a moment. When they opened again, they weren’t focused. “To take… a… day.” His breathing was harsh, but the small smile was still there.  
“I didn’t. I just told you to leave.” And Arthur was really wishing he hadn’t right about now. If Merlin had stayed in his room, he might not be dying against a cold stone wall right now.  
When Gaius arrived, he was pushed out of the way, and he let it happen. The wall across from Merlin was just as cold, and Arthur leaned against it to make sure… if Merlin needed him, he wouldn’t be far.  
“To my rooms. Quickly.” Gaius said after looking at the wound. Arthur immediately stepped forward and scooped Merlin up, moving as quickly and smoothly as possible. Merlin’s eyes were closed now, and Arthur wasn’t sure he’d get to see them open again. But he had to. He had to.  
Once Merlin was laid on the cot in Gaius’ chambers, Arthur and the knights were told to leave. Arthur didn’t want to, and thought about demanding that Gaius let him be of some use in saving Merlin’s life, but Leon gently pulled him out, reminding him of the threat from Amira. It wasn’t a good diversion, not at all, but it was true, at least. He had to come to some decision about Amira, and that couldn’t wait. At least, not while he was waiting to see if his manservant would die.  
Leon gave him a sympathetic nudge as they walked away. Gwaine was keeping watch just outside the door, in case whoever had attacked Merlin cared to show up. Arthur had ordered another guard there as well, and expected them to switch out on watches periodically. But someone was to be on that door at all times, because Merlin-  
Arthur couldn’t push Merlin from his mind, so his planning went very poorly, but at least he completed some of the paperwork he’d been putting off. It was only then that he felt the tears on his face. He didn’t know if they were angry or scared tears. It didn’t matter. They were there because of Merlin. Arthur wiped them away quickly and scolded himself for being weak. Then he began his search for Merlin’s attacker. He was going to make them wish they’d never been born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This story literally has come from my strange love of Merlin!whump stories and the hole that the end of Merlin has left in my heart. If you have any suggestions, please, do tell. I'm not sure what exactly I'm going to do with this story, so any ideas are good ideas at this point!
> 
> But really. Thanks.


	2. Chapter 2

Gaius was good at healing. He always had been, and, hopefully, he always would be. Mixing potions was second nature, binding wounds a mindless task. He’d fixed up so many of the knights that he’d grown almost numb to the injuries they received. It was one reason he still kept his job, despite getting on in years. No one was quite as good as he was, and no one else could handle the amount of blood he saw. Even when Merlin came in less than perfect condition, he could handle it, because he had practice. He’d seen many loved ones hurt badly, even killed, and he could keep going.  
Seeing Merlin struggling for breath, blood misting his lips, was putting him at his breaking point. That, and the fact that it hadn’t been off on some hunt or in some battle protecting Arthur, but alone in the castle… it was too much for his old heart. And he’d done all he could… well, all he should do. His magic was a faint thought in the back of his mind, but it was so risky, especially with knights guarding the door day and night.  
He glanced at Merlin. The boy was very pale. If not for the sound of air bubbling in his throat, he could be dead. He’d suffered all manner of injuries and poisons under Arthur’s employ, and he’d always fought his way through them. It had been close, certainly, and at times Merlin had resigned himself to dying to save the Once and Future King. He’d never had a problem giving up his life for Arthur’s, which Gaius had always had a little difficulty accepting. But that was more acceptable than this. Dying for nothing, because… Gaius assumed it was because of his magic. He assumed someone had taken it into their own hands to save the kingdom from Merlin. Not that he could tell Arthur that. The king could never know, or at least… but Gaius never quite let himself hope for the return of magic to Camelot. He wasn’t sure his old heart could take the disappointment if it didn’t happen.  
Gaius had only left his spot beside Merlin’s bed to mix tinctures or grab more bandages. He was using many of the herbs Merlin had just picked. Neither of them could have known how important they would be, and so soon. If the bandits had managed to stop Merlin, if he hadn’t been able to bring the collection back… Gaius didn’t want to think about it. There were a lot of things he didn’t want to think of right now. Gaius dripped a new tincture between Merlin’s lips, hoping this one would stop the internal bleeding completely, but he had little hope. It was mostly stopped, judging from the amount of blood that Merlin breathed out, but there was still enough to be troubling. Magic would fix it, a voice in the back of his mind reminded. Magic could save Merlin.   
Gauis shook his head. He couldn’t. Arthur would be around any minute, or one of the knights just outside would peek his head in to check on the boy. They were all rather protective of him anymore, and they were all worried. It was comforting. Less comforting, though, that he had to be looking over his shoulder every time he did something.  
As if on cue, Gwaine poked his head inside. “Gaius? Any changes?”  
Gaius didn’t look up as he shook his head. He didn’t want to see the disappointment on the knight’s face. Gwaine always had been one of the most protective of the boy. He rivaled Arthur, at times, although only because he had more free time than the king. It always seemed to cause him physical pain when Gaius gave him a negative answer, but he kept asking. Every hour, on the hour, he’d ask. Gaius had told him several times to go get some rest, and he’d said sure, but then he’d be back the next hour.  
Gaius sighed in relief as Merlin swallowed, weakly. It’d been difficult the past few times he’d tried to administer some kind of potion, but it seemed Merlin was attempting to help him out now. He didn’t want to die, Gaius knew that. He could have died the night before, if he hadn’t fought so hard. He was giving it everything he had. Gaius should help in any way he could.  
With a sigh and a frown, he struggled to find the right words to say. It had been so long, and his mind wasn’t what it once was. But he found them, and he hesitantly placed his hands on Merlin’s chest. He muttered the words, knew his eyes glowed for a moment before it was finished. It didn’t take long, magic never did. He just hoped it worked.   
He found he was exhausted after the spell did its work, and he leaned forward to rest his head on the bed next to the boy. Just for a few minutes, he told himself. He’d have to check Merlin in a few minutes to see if his breathing was any easier, but for a bit he could rest…   
He didn’t hear Arthur come in, because he was so sound asleep. Arthur noticed Gaius and crept even quieter, even though he was sure the physician had to be worn out after a full night of keeping the clumsy manservant alive. He stopped just after entering. Merlin was in the same bed as always when he got hurt, sleeping. Although Arthur wasn’t sure he liked the word sleep for this, not when it was forced upon him by injuries he shouldn’t have. Arthur noticed the bruising around Merlin’s throat now, and the anger that had somewhat fizzled made a raging comeback. Not only had Merlin been stabbed, he’d been choked. Badly, by the looks of it. Merlin didn’t deserve this. Merlin had done nothing wrong. His unfailing, unswerving loyalty had a tendency to get him in bad situations, and his mouth got him in more, but on the whole… he was a good kid. Man. Whatever. Arthur trusted him implicitly. Was this an attempt to get to him? Was it someone from Amira? Weaken him. Or make him more like his father, who would never accept a servant that talked back as much as Merlin.   
But that wasn’t Merlin’s fault. Arthur let it happen. Merlin should know better, but he’d been getting away with it the entire time he’d been in Camelot. It was expected from him now. Merlin shouldn’t be punished for that, it was Arthur’s fault, an oversight-  
Now an oversight. He liked it. It was acceptable, because he was the king. He made the rules. And besides, that wasn’t the reason Queen Amethyst was angry with him, it was more his policies, his ideas. Merlin was a small part of that, sure, but he had no sway on Arthur’s decisions. There was no reason for them to attack Merlin.  
Unless they wanted to throw Arthur off, distract him from the things he should be doing. And that was working spectacularly. He sighed and leaned against the wall, loathe to go much closer. Going closer meant he could see the blood. He could see the pain. It made it much too real. He still could see Merlin leaning against the wall, covered in blood, but still smiling. Now he wasn’t even smiling. He was ash pale and cold and quiet, which was wrong on so many different levels.   
“Princess.” Gwaine’s voice drew him back to the present.   
“What, Gwaine.” Not a question. He wasn’t annoyed. He just wasn’t feeling much of anything.  
“Council meeting soon, to discuss-“  
“I know.”  
Gwaine was quiet for a moment. “I’ll make sure he’s safe.”  
“I thought I told you to get some sleep.”  
“I thought you told me to guard this door.”  
Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was getting long. He should have made Merlin cut it yesterday. Then he would have stayed longer. He wouldn’t have been a victim. He would have been safe and chattery and annoying as ever.  
“Don’t push yourself too hard, Gwaine.” Arthur muttered, his eyes not leaving Merlin.  
“You either, Arthur.” It was a sign of Gwaine’s concern that he used Arthur’s name. Arthur appreciated it, but didn’t acknowledge it. He couldn’t take it easy, not right now. There was too much to do, too much to worry about. And Merlin was at the top of that list. He shouldn’t be, the king kept telling himself. Merlin was a servant, and he had a whole kingdom to protect. But that didn’t seem to change anything. Merlin was a victim of Arthur’s inability to keep a kingdom safe. And while he was desperate for that not to happen to anyone else, he couldn’t help but think… if Merlin was fine after this, maybe he wasn’t such a bad king. Maybe he’d be alright.  
“I’ll let Percival take my place if you get to that meeting.” Gwaine said after a while. “I imagine both are pretty important.”  
Arthur nodded. “Fine. But I expect you back when you wake up.”  
“As if I’d do anything else.”  
Arthur trusted Gwaine. He trusted all of his knights… had trusted all of his knights. Someone had hurt Merlin, and it was possible it was an assassin from outside the kingdom, but it could be someone within Arthur’s trust. Now he had to make that circle smaller, at least for a little while. Gwaine was one of the first in that circle, if only because he and Merlin were so close. Gwaine would keep him safe while Arthur was forced to go play king.  
Arthur took one more long look at Merlin before he turned and left. If he stayed any longer, he’d never leave. Gwaine nodded as he left, and Arthur nodded back. Then he rushed to the meeting. Late to his own meeting. Some king he was.  
M-M-M  
Gaius woke up much later, to find Gwaine asleep on the floor on the other side of Merlin, nothing but his arm for a pillow. He frowned, disapproval all over his face, but he couldn’t blame the knight. After all, he’d just slept in a chair next to the boy, which was making his back scream in pain. Gwaine would be in much better shape than Gaius after his nap.  
He immediately set to checking on Merlin, his breathing, his pulse, his eyes. He sighed in relief. The internal bleeding had stopped. Either Gaius had done his job well, or Merlin had done it himself, subconsciously, because of the prodding. Whatever the case, things looked a lot better. He still had to overcome the wound and…  
Gaius frowned as he pulled the bandage back and saw the festering around the wound. Of course it was infected. Or… poisoned. Gaius put his head in his hands for a moment, breathing deeply. He had to be a physician now. Not Merlin’s guardian, not Merlin’s friend, an impartial physician. But if anything could go wrong, it was. As soon as he’d made progress, it had gone backward.   
Take the good. The internal bleeding was stopped, for now. If he had retained that on top of the infection – poison – there would be no hope for the boy. He could still pull through. He would still pull through. The boy didn’t have a choice.  
Gaius was applying the salve to Merlin’s wound when Arthur hesitantly entered. He looked drawn, more exhausted than a young man his age had any right to look. His gaze was on Merlin immediately, even though he asked Gaius, “How’s he doing?”  
Gaius sighed heavily as he continued dabbing at the wound. “The internal bleeding’s stopped. But I fear the blade was poisoned, and it’s starting to set in the wound.”  
“Why?” Arthur asked quietly as he walked a few steps farther into the room.  
“Why what, sire?”  
“Why him? Why attack Merlin? I’ve been trying to make sense of it, but he’s just… and they didn’t attack him because he saw something, or we’d have another death or two. He’s just a servant, Gaius.”  
Gaius nodded as Arthur ran his hands through his hair. The physician suspected that the king had been doing that often in the last few hours, from the looks of things.  
“He’s close to you, sire. It could just be that.” Gaius hated lying to the king, especially about something so important to him, but it wasn’t his place to reveal Merlin’s secret, and he wasn’t sure how Arthur would react just now, anyway.  
“I suppose.” Arthur went to sit close to the fire and discovered Gwaine. He frowned and looked at Gaius. “Why is he here?”  
“I’m not sure, sire. I assume he didn’t want to leave Merlin alone. I was asleep when he came in.”  
“He told me- Percival’s at the door, he said-“ Arthur sighed. “He never said he was going to sleep. That…” Arthur trailed off. It didn’t seem right to use crude language in front of Gaius. He kicked Gwaine, who murmured in his sleep and blinked sleepily.  
“Why aren’t you in your rooms, Gwaine?” Arthur demanded.   
“Didn’t feel like it.” He muttered, slowly stretching as he sat up. Arthur could hear the number of times the knight’s joints cracked, and rolled his eyes.   
“You were supposed to be getting rest.”  
“I got rest. Right here. Would still be getting it if you hadn’t woken me up, Princess.”  
“Go, Gwaine. You can return in the morning.”  
“What about you-“  
“That’s an order, Gwaine.”  
Gwaine muttered under his breath as he brushed the dust off and left the room. Arthur took his spot on the floor, sitting near Merlin’s head but staring at the stone beneath his feet.   
“Arthur, you should follow your own advice.”  
“It wasn’t advice.” He frowned and shook his head. “Besides, I’ll be fine. I didn’t stay up all night like Gwaine did.”  
“But you’re just as overworked, Arthur. Go to Gwen, get some sleep. Merlin…”  
“He might not make it through the night. So I’ll be staying until there’s no question.” Arthur said firmly, daring Gaius to argue with him. “I’ll send for some pillows, a blanket. I’ll be fine.”  
Gaius sighed and nodded. There was no talking Arthur out of this decision, not when he used that tone. He and Merlin were both stubborn in that way.  
Gaius fell asleep in a chair not long after Arthur had decided to stay. The bags under his eyes spoke of the weariness he must be feeling deep in his bones. After all, this was Merlin. If Arthur wasn’t sleeping, then Gaius certainly wasn’t, either. Not only was the man like a father to Merlin, but it was his job to make sure the idiot stayed alive.   
Arthur glanced up at Merlin, finally daring to see him close. It was bad. He’d known it was bad. But he’d hoped… he’d hoped that the boy was fighting so hard that he was healing at an abnormal rate. If magic wasn’t banned maybe… but it was, and Arthur couldn’t – wouldn’t – change that. As much as he disagreed with his father’s methods, he knew in his heart that magic was evil. He’d only ever seen it used for ill, and he knew now that it couldn’t be used for good. Not pure, real good. As a means to an end, perhaps. Or with a price that was too heavy to pay. Never was it free and easy and good.   
But if only it was. Merlin would be fine, he would wake up and tell Arthur what had happened. Because, despite his efforts, there was no way to determine what had happened until Merlin could tell him something, anything, about what had occurred yesterday morning.  
Arthur fell asleep leaning against Merlin’s bed. The fire was warm enough that he didn’t need a blanket, and he didn’t feel like leaving the servant’s side long enough to order pillows be brought. He’d have to leave in the morning, regardless, but for now… now he would be there. Maybe his presence would help Merlin somehow.  
M-M-M  
Merlin could feel the pain, distantly.   
He’d been trying to push his magic at it, trying to do something about the difficulty to draw breath, but it was so hard… he’d fought for a while after it had happened, in the deep dark place he was banished to, but fighting took a lot of energy. Besides, if someone knew about his magic, what was the point? If he healed and woke up, he would probably be outed to Arthur, and he might be burned at the stake anyway.  
A small voice whispered that Arthur would never do that. A voice whispered back that even if he wasn’t executed, he would be banished on principle. He couldn’t stay in a place where magic was banned, regardless of his friendship with the king.   
Really, what was the point in getting better? For all he knew, Arthur wouldn’t be able to look at him when he woke up, anyway.  
But Gaius. Gwen. Gwaine. All of his friends. He couldn’t just die, could he? He couldn’t just leave them behind. He suspected that Gwaine already knew, anyway. The knight wouldn’t just abandon him once the whole kingdom knew. And Gwen was too kind to push him away because of something he was born with. Gaius had only ever encouraged him to build and grow his magic. Arthur could never know that, but he couldn’t let Gaius suffer.  
So he continued to fight. He pushed his magic to the wound, feeling the poison and attempting to burn it out. It hurt. Oh gosh, did it hurt. But he couldn’t die here, he couldn’t. And even if Arthur hated him, even if Arthur wanted him dead, it was still his job to protect the prat. It was his destiny. And, although he would never admit it, he liked Arthur. Despite everything, he thought of Arthur as a friend. That would never change.  
One bout of pain was so intense it forced him into wakefulness, breathing hard and regretting every breath. It hurt. And yet he still couldn’t seem to pull in enough oxygen, despite the pain he was putting himself through.  
Before he could struggle much more, there was something under his nose and Gaius’ instruction to “Just breathe, Merlin.” So he struggled to do just that, just breathe, and it became easier to take in air as he breathed in the smoke under his nose. He relaxed back onto the bed as it he took in full breaths, despite the pain. And soon Gaius had a potion for him to suffer through that dissipated the pain to a bearable amount.   
He saw Arthur next to him and cringed. There was pain in the king’s eyes when he saw Merlin’s reaction, and the warlock couldn’t make sense of that. Unless he didn’t know. He relaxed further as the realization struck him. He didn’t know yet. Maybe he was safe.  
He didn’t have time to hold conversation before the potion dragged him back to sleep, but he managed to assure Arthur that he would be fine, of course he’d be fine, before he fell back into the darkness, feeling much better than he had but by no means good.  
Arthur ran a hand through his hair again, which was quickly becoming a habit. Gaius stared at Merlin’s face with a small smile, knowing how hard the boy was fighting, and fighting successfully. He’d be fine. He’d live. He’d even spent the time to assure Arthur of that fact, and the king looked a lot less weary than he had. It took some convincing to force Arthur to take Merlin’s bed for the remainder of the night, but he did, and Gaius leaned back in his chair. In the morning, perhaps Merlin would be able to tell them what had happened, and they could protect the boy from the fear he must be feeling. It was obvious from the way he’d flinched away from Arthur that he was expecting his magic to be made known, and Gaius would do whatever he could to stop that from happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter! I can't give you a schedule of releases, as I'm writing as I have time and have motivation, but I certainly hope you're enjoying them so far. Please, feel free to give critiques and suggestions. I need them. I want them. 
> 
> Love to everyone reading. You're the best.


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin didn’t want to wake up, but he didn’t have a whole lot of choice.  
While he was still hurting terribly, and his body was still working hard to knit his flesh back together, he’d slept altogether too long and the potion Gaius had given him had completely worn off. So, after a few minutes of struggling to find his way back into sleep, he opened his eyes.  
Gaius was at his worktable, mixing something that was probably for the boy lying half dead in front of the fire. Merlin groaned inwardly, wishing just once the medicine Gaius made would taste good. But at least they did what they were supposed to do. That was more than Merlin could say, who had not quite yet mastered the art of making potions.   
Arthur was nowhere to be seen, and for that Merlin was grateful. He didn’t want to talk about it, and he didn’t want to answer questions, and he definitely didn’t want to find out what the king knew.  
“Gaius.” Merlin’s voice was a croak, and it hurt. He frowned, but he remembered fairly quickly the choking he’d had the privilege of being subjected to. Ah yes. Sir Perth. Merlin wondered if he was still hanging around, waiting to see if Merlin had been killed or not. Waiting to expose his magic to the world, but particularly to Arthur. If he hadn’t already. The stress of it made Merlin’s breathing quicken, despite the pain it caused. He felt his body and mind falling into a state of panic until Gaius put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder.  
“He doesn’t know, boy. Calm down.” His voice was calm but stern, and Merlin found himself automatically listening. He was still afraid. But he was fine for now.  
“Where-?”  
“In a council meeting. Amira plans to attack, it seems. He thinks they were the ones who…” Gaius cut off as he looked at Merlin. They both knew what he was about to say, and that Gaius found it too painful.   
“Perth.” Merlin found it easier to say single syllable words, because his throat was killing him. Gaius had thought of that, and was already offering a cup of water. Merlin could pull himself up to sit, so Gaius helped. It was awful, and Merlin struggled every minute, but he was glad when he was finally in a somewhat upright position, a large stack of pillows supporting his back. Gaius held the cup to Merlin’s lips and let him drink it slowly. It helped, and Merlin could taste some herbs in it to help ease the pain.   
“Perth?” Gaius prompted after Merlin had had enough.   
“He was the one-“ The coughing jarred both his throat and his wound, and he felt his muscles tense at the pain. It took a lot of effort to smooth himself back out again.   
“He attacked you?” Gaius frowned and fell into thought. Sir Perth had only ever been polite to Merlin, to everyone. He was very quiet and quick, and Arthur had relied on him often to defend the castle while he was away on business away. He’d protected Camelot well and had staved off some terrible attacks while Arthur was otherwise occupied.   
But in a way, it made sense. He felt it was his duty to protect the kingdom, and if he thought Merlin was a threat… he’d do what was necessary to eliminate that threat, as he had so many times before. It was just problematic, as Arthur had grown to rely on the knight. And how to convince the king, with no proof?   
“Arthur likes him.” Merlin said quietly, knowing the thoughts Gaius was sorting through. “He won’t believe.”  
“We’ll think of something, Merlin. Arthur likes you as well.”   
Merlin nodded, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Arthur had been raised with a healthy distrust of magic. It wasn’t going to change because he found out his manservant possessed it, had been born with it. It didn’t matter that magic was a part of him. There would be consequences, if for no other reason than the fact that he had been lying about it since the day they met. Perth didn’t have that kind of history. He’d only ever done what was best for Camelot, and he’d been clean about all of it. He had never needed to lie.   
“Speaking of Arthur… he wanted to speak with you as soon as you woke. I’m certain he’ll be around soon to ask you some questions. If you’d like, I’ve just finished mixing a sleeping draught…”  
Merlin was sorely tempted to accept it. He didn’t want to deal with this, not until he’d had time to think through a plausible story. But he also knew it would take a long time to come up with something, and he couldn’t just sleep until that time came around.  
“Gaius.” Merlin whispered. His voice was none too happy that he kept speaking, and he knew he should save some of it for his king. “I’ve blocked the memories.”  
Gaius nodded. It was plausible. He could provide Arthur with an assurance that it was normal in this type of situation. And as Arthur wasn’t aware of Merlin’s power, he saw Merlin as rather more innocent than he was. He would believe it easily.  
It was another lie, but one that he felt was necessary. At least for now.  
“He’ll understand.” Gaius told his ward after a moment of silence. Merlin wasn’t sure if he meant about the feigned amnesia or his magic. Either way, he knew Arthur would not be happy. One way he’d calmly accept it. The other… Merlin couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.  
“Here.” Gaius offered him some soup, something weak and thoroughly unappetizing to Merlin right now. But he knew he needed to eat it. So he let Gaius spoon feed him and obediently swallowed every drop in the bowl. He felt tired afterwards, and he dozed off quickly and easily.  
M-M-M   
Arthur’s voice woke Merlin. He was murmuring to Gaius, quietly, with a concern and weariness that he hadn’t felt in a good long while. Merlin heard him ask about the attack. Gaius gave him a noncommittal answer, something about the impossibility of knowing anything from his injuries. Merlin was always glad of Gaius and his way with words. Arthur rarely suspected there was more to the story than Gaius said, when it mattered. The old man was surprisingly good at keeping secrets that needed keeping.   
Merlin listened for a while longer. Mostly it was Arthur asking polite questions about Merlin’s condition. Then he moved into what was happening in Camelot. Apparently they were on the verge of a war with Amira. Merlin couldn’t stop the frown on his face. Amira had never had a problem with Camelot, and had assisted them many times in the past. Queen Amethyst was strict, certainly, and was more harsh on magic users than Uther ever had been, but she was also kind to her allies and had a soft spot for Arthur. Merlin remembered watching the two interact at banquets, the way she smiled more at the then prince and went out of her way to make him feel welcome and wanted. Merlin had always assumed it was because she had lost a son, Arthur had lost a mother. Merlin suspected she had wanted to provide that feminine support that Arthur never had, her maternal instincts kicking in. There was no reason for her to attack Camelot.  
Arthur sounded too tired. Perhaps Merlin should feign sleep until he left, spare him the trouble. But it wouldn’t get any better until whatever was brewing had passed, and it seemed as though they were nowhere near the downward spiral. So he moaned and asked, “Water?”  
Gaius sprang into action immediately, and Merlin could hear him mixing the same herbs into his water as last time. Arthur was strangely silent, and Merlin wasn’t quite ready to turn and look at him. He had yet to open his eyes, dreading the moment he did. Arthur would be a bloodhound, sniffing out answers. Merlin would have to lie to his face, again.   
Gaius helped him to sit up again, setting the drink against his lips and ordering him to drink it all. He flinched at the taste, and winced when he reached up and moved the wound. Gaius gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before returning to the worktable.   
Arthur still hadn’t said anything. Merlin risked a glance, but Arthur was staring at the floor instead of him. Merlin looked back at the blanket covering his legs, the bulge in his shirt where the bandage was wrapped, only just noticing that he was wearing a different shirt. He frowned, wondering if he was wearing different pants as well. He’d just decided it was too much work to figure out when Arthur finally spoke up.  
“How are you feeling?”  
“Fine.”  
When Merlin looked at the king, he was glaring. “You’re fine?”  
“Yes.”  
“You’ve been stabbed, Merlin. And choked. You’re not fine.”  
Merlin only shrugged, which made Arthur sigh and run a hand through his hair. There was another long silence.   
“Who did this to you, Merlin?” Arthur’s voice was quiet, which was not what Merlin had been expecting. He glanced at Arthur again, who was staring at his hands with a slight frown on his face.   
“I…” Merlin wanted to tell the truth. He wanted Arthur to be able to do something, he wanted Arthur to protect him. But Arthur wouldn’t be able to believe him, or would have to demand proof, and he didn’t have anything to say. “I don’t remember.” His voice was too quiet when he said the words.  
“You don’t?”  
“No, I-“  
“Gaius said you might not. I’d hoped… it doesn’t matter. Tell me as soon as you remember anything.”  
“I will.” The lie felt terrible on his tongue, but he knew it was necessary. He couldn’t tell Arthur. And if there really was a war brewing, Arthur would need Perth. He was a good fighter for Camelot.  
“I expect you back at work in a few days. I need someone to clean my rooms.”  
“And clean those pants-“ Merlin didn’t get a chance to finish before the coughing started again. Gaius was quick to prepare a cup of water, but Arthur took it from the physician and helped Merlin to drink himself. Merlin would have blushed if it wasn’t for the toll the coughing attack took from him.  
“They’ve got a bit of blood on them now, thanks for that.” Arthur muttered when Merlin was finished attempting to hack up a lung. “Gwen tells me it’s nigh impossible to get out, so I’ve had them tossed. No need to clean them.”  
Merlin nodded, but his throat was too sore to carry on a conversation.  
“Get some rest, Merlin. You look like death.”  
Merlin made a face, and Arthur smiled. “Be grateful, it’s a far sight better than how you normally look.”  
Merlin made to sit up better and cringed at the pain that throbbed through him. Arthur immediately moved to help, but Merlin gestured him to back up and leave him alone. Arthur frowned.   
“Just… get some rest. And have someone fetch me if you remember anything.”  
Merlin nodded as he settled into the pillows behind him. Arthur watched him carefully until Merlin closed his eyes, seeming to relax. With a sigh, he left, intending to finish off the paperwork tonight and then return. He didn’t want to leave the boy for very long.  
Gaius sat next to Merlin once Arthur had left, offering him a sleeping draught. Merlin drank it quickly and sank back into the pillows, Gaius helping him to lie down. He was asleep before five minutes had passed, his breathing coming easy. Gaius used this opportunity to change the bandage on Merlin’s wound and check the infection. He was surprised when he discovered not only was the infection completely gone, the wound seemed to be healing at an accelerated rate. He looked at Merlin’s face and couldn’t help the small smile. The boy’s magic was a wonderful thing, even if he didn’t fully appreciate it.   
M-M-M  
The news kept getting worse, it seemed.   
Arthur had been keeping a few spies planted around the forming army of Amira, to make sure they were well prepared for the battle that would soon come their way. They’d just sent back news that a group of sorcerers had joined up with the troops, a number that sounded formidable on their own. Arthur had thought Queen Amira was fiercely against magic, and would never stoop to letting mages help with her battles… but it seemed he had thought wrong. Either she’d never been as firmly opposed as he’d believed, or she would sink low enough to employ mages just to prove a point to him. Whatever the case, she’d allowed them to join her army and now Arthur was struggling to come up with a plan to combat them. His knights were good, certainly, and would have had no problem against the force he thought they’d be up against. The addition of sorcerers made everything complicated, and a lot less certain.   
He was practically pulling his hair out as he stared at the reports, wishing for anything except what was on them. He heard Gwen roll over in bed and sighed. He should join her. He needed to sleep. But he was too concerned to sleep well right now, he knew. There was no point in trying. He’d just toss and turn and be grumpier in the morning. Probably would keep Gwen awake, as well.  
Whatever the case, he couldn’t stare at the reports anymore. His eyes were sore from straining in the dark and he was coming to no real conclusions. He glanced at the lump on his bed that was Gwen under the blankets before he made up his mind to go back and visit Merlin. It was late, of course, and Merlin and Gaius both would be asleep, but he could sneak in. It always helped to have Merlin around when he had to solve a problem, and maybe it would give him a little piece of mind.  
He grabbed a pillow off of his side of the bed and crept from the room, making his way to Gaius chambers. It was very dark tonight, the clouds covering the stars and moon and threatening rain. Rain, of all things. When he was trying to prepare for a war, it was trying to rain. He didn’t have time for rain, he had troops to train and gather. But the weather had never much cared for his plans before, and he could tell it didn’t care now.   
He was right; Merlin was sound asleep, the fire playing with shadows on his face, and Gaius was asleep on a small bed tucked into the corner. Arthur sat on the chair Gaius had put next to Merlin’s bed, leaning back and watching the fire burn bright. It reminded him of pyres he’d seen as a child, when his father had caught a sorcerer and sentenced him to execution.   
Queen Amethyst had been at one of those executions. The realization struck Arthur like a physical blow. She had been at one of them, had demanded it. He remembered the fury she’d let seep from her eyes when she thought Arthur hadn’t been looking, remembered the demands she’d made of his father to get that pyre built. Unless she’d changed drastically in the time since then, she was no lover of magic. So what were the sorcerers doing with her? Surely she didn’t want to teach Arthur a lesson so badly she’d overlook her prejudice?  
He frowned. It didn’t make a difference, really; he still had to make a plan to deal with the sorcerers, regardless of her motivations. It just struck him as wrong, in the worst way.  
He was torn from his thoughts when he heard Merlin muttering something under his breath. At first, Arthur was sure that Merlin had woken, had seen him in the room and was attempting to ask a question or make a comment. However, when he glanced at his friend he saw the blue eyes were still closed. So Merlin talked in his sleep. Arthur had a small smile on his face as he filed that information away for later, to use in some joke or story at Merlin’s expense.  
What kind of things did Merlin dream about? Arthur focused his attention on the words coming from Merlin’s mouth, but couldn’t make heads or tails out of the information he heard. It seemed to be some kind of gibberish, and he was mildly disappointed. Merlin could have at least talked about a girl he fancied.  
If he’d turned around, he would have noticed the blankets around Gaius push themselves up further and the dishes from that evening’s meal being piled neatly on the table. But he didn’t. He thought for a while longer on the issue of the sorcerers before he fell asleep in the chair, completely by accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave reviews, suggestions, and ideas, I love to read them!


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin groaned to himself when he woke to find Arthur sleeping in the chair next to him. Didn’t he ever leave?  
Gaius was already up and about, mixing potions and making breakfast. When he glanced over at Merlin, the boy raised his eyebrows and made a pointed look at the king, slouched over in the chair. Gaius shrugged and continued moving around the room, gathering this and that. Merlin looked at Arthur, who looked pretty ridiculous with his head touching his chest, and then hesitantly ran a hand over the bandage wrapped around him. He wanted it gone. He wanted to be up and moving again, helping Arthur plan for the battle they were apparently about to face. But he couldn’t. Not only was he exhausted, any unnatural healing would be noticed. After all, Arthur had seen firsthand the wound Merlin had received. He’d know it would take a good long while to heal from.   
But he had to help. Arthur wasn’t aware just how often Merlin had saved his life, and while he wanted to keep it that way, he couldn’t stop now. Even if…  
There was a moment of panic as Merlin remembered Sir Perth, remembered what he knew and what he could tell Arthur. But he hadn’t yet. Merlin forced those words to repeat over and over in his head as he calmed himself down. Arthur wouldn’t be sleeping in the chair next to him if he’d found out, he would have dragged Merlin out of bed in the middle of the night. He would have yelled and screamed, threatened him maybe. It wouldn’t be so peaceful this morning if Arthur had found out.   
Gaius seemed to notice his panic, appearing by his side and offering the same cup of water he'd been offering every time Merlin woke. Merlin took the cup for himself this time, drinking it quickly and handing it back to Gaius. Then he stared at Arthur again.  
“Don't you have some work to do, Prat?” Merlin said, quietly. Arthur jolted awake, his hand automatically reaching for the sword that wasn't there, before he remembered where he was and settled down. He looked at Merlin and frowned.  
“Don't you?”  
“Almost died, remember?”   
Arthur rolled his eyes. “You would use that excuse.”  
“I'll take what I can get.” Merlin paused as Arthur rubbed his eyes, waking himself up. “How's it looking?”  
“What?”  
“The battle. With Amira.”  
“You're talkative today.” Arthur muttered. Merlin shrugged and cringed. It was easy to forget he didn't have a hole between his ribs sometimes, and he regretted it every time.   
“It's not looking good, Merlin, but that's not for you to worry about right now.” Arthur gently patted Merlin's shoulder before standing, taking a good minute to stretch. “I'm going to try to get some training in-”  
“I'm afraid it's raining, sire.” Gaius interjected. Arthur glanced out the window and groaned.   
“Then I suppose I'll...” Arthur trailed off before sitting back down. “I suppose I'll wait until it's finished raining.”  
“Would you care to join us here, sire?” Gaius was already willing to offer, but neither he nor Merlin expected Arthur to say yes. Gaius did well enough, but his cooking couldn't match up to the palace chef, and they didn't have near the access to fresh fruits and vegetables that the kitchen had.   
“Sure.” Merlin and Gaius exchanged a look at Arthur's answer, Merlin rolling his eyes and Gaius mildly shocked. Of course now would be the time Arthur accepted the invitation. Merlin relaxed back into the pillows as Gaius set about preparing an extra serving of breakfast for the king.  
“What about Gwen?”  
“She was leaving with Elyan early this morning.”  
Merlin shot Arthur a questioning look.  
“Something they were doing in honor of their father. It wasn't exactly my business.” Merlin wondered, by the way Arthur finished the sentence weakly, if Gwen and he had argued about it. Gwen had learned to be strong with Arthur, and she'd gotten good at convincing him when something was very important. Elyan couldn't argue with his king, but Gwen could argue with her husband.  
“It's that time of year, isn't it?” Gaius asked as he added something to the pot over the fire.   
“Yes.” Arthur felt the weight of that death on his shoulders still.   
“Why is it looking bad?” Merlin was regretting all the conversation, but he wanted to get Arthur's mind off of the guilt he still carried, and talking strategy was a surefire way to do that. However, Arthur's mood didn't seem to change as he wrung his hands.  
“Sorcerers have joined the army.”  
“But-” Merlin's throat was really starting to bother him, but it was then that Gaius handed a cup of water, which he absently handed to Merlin.  
“She doesn't approve of magic in the slightest. It doesn't make any sense.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Merlin sipped at the water, watching Arthur's face. It didn't make sense; Merlin knew that better than anyone. It also meant Arthur had a whole new problem to deal with, on top of the initial threat of battle. And since Arthur didn't believe in the use of magic to win... he was obviously struggling to come up with a solution.  
If Merlin could just tell him, could just use his own magic to put off the sorcerers, or convince them not to fight Camelot, this wouldn't be a problem. And it would probably put off their attackers as much as Arthur was put off now. Merlin knew he was stronger than the sorcerers they would face, and it would put Arthur's mind at ease to know he had such a powerful force so loyal to him... if he didn't feel like executing Merlin.  
“I'll come up with something. I don't exactly have another choice.”  
You could legalize magic. The thought crossed Merlin's mind, but he knew there was no use putting voice to it.   
“No. Not really.” Merlin agreed, sadly.   
There was a knock on the door, and it opened before Gaius had a chance to ask who it was. Gwaine poked his head inside and grinned. Merlin was surprised he hadn't shown up before now, but he assumed Arthur had all the knights busy.  
“Merlin.” He said warmly. He strode into the room and pulled up a chair beside Arthur. “Glad to see you awake.”  
“You were out for a while.” Arthur muttered. Merlin frowned in confusion, but neither men bothered to explain the statement.  
“I may have been drunk for a while.” He grinned at Arthur and Merlin both, and Merlin could swear he smelt it on his breath. Arthur definitely could, and he frowned and shifted away from the knight. “Tavern just wasn't the same without Merlin around.” He winked at Merlin, who made a face at the chuckle that rose from Arthur.  
“I'm sure.” Merlin muttered, glaring at the knight as he chuckled. Arthur didn't need any more reason to blame Merlin's absences on the tavern, but Gwaine couldn't seem to care less. He found it hilarious.  
“Merlin, you've got to cut back.” Arthur's voice was completely disapproving: obviously he hadn't picked up on how humorous Gwaine found the situation.  
“I'll get on that.” Merlin took another drink from the cup Gaius had readied for him.   
“Princess, Leon's prepared a full report. Council's gathered, your presence is requested.”   
Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Again. Merlin didn't recall this habit of his. It must be relatively new. “Yeah. I forgot about that. Sorry Gaius, I'll be skipping breakfast. Thanks.”  
“Of course, sire.” Gaius dipped his head as Arthur stood and stretched quickly before leaving the room. They watched the door close behind him.  
“Arthur is really stressed.” Gwaine noted, turning to Merlin. “I'm not sure what can help, though.”  
Merlin moved to shrug, thought better of it, and answered, “I don't know.”  
“Gwaine, would you like breakfast? We seem to have extra now.”  
The smile on Gwaine's face was crooked and very pleased. “I'd love some.” Merlin wondered if he hadn't stayed just to finish off what was supposed to be the king's breakfast, but he didn't say anything. He liked having someone besides Gaius and Arthur around.  
Gaius served them some kind of stew and bread, very similar to what they'd had for dinner, but Merlin couldn't complain. He at what he could, pleased to be doing it for himself, and simply was glad to have something sitting in his stomach. Gwaine powered through it like he hadn't eaten in weeks, which wasn't exactly uncommon. Gaius warned that it was bad for the digestive system to eat that quickly, but Gwaine just grinned as he set his empty bowl on the table. Merlin chuckled, regretted the movement but not the action.  
A knock on the door made them all pause to look. Gaius went to the door and opened it, and standing there was Sir Perth, the would be murderer himself. Merlin froze, feeling his heart pick up the pace just seeing the man. Gwaine stood when the senior knight stepped into the room.  
“Sir Perth, what brings you to our little-”  
“Gwaine. You're needed.”  
The knight frowned and glanced at Merlin. His eyes widened slightly. Apparently he could see the fear in Merlin's face, but he schooled his features back into a bored look before he turned back to Sir Perth. “What for?”  
“Some new formations we're putting into practice.” Perth's eyes glanced at Merlin as well, and Merlin, though he tried, couldn't keep the man's eyes. He glanced at his legs and concentrated on listening, waiting for the man to make a beeline for him, try to take him out again. His heart was pounding against his chest, trying to escape before it could be damaged by the knight in the door.  
“Arthur's in a meeting with some knights, there's not much point-”  
“We are doing it now, Gwaine. I expect you in the training yard in ten minutes.”  
“But – it's raining! And I don't have my armor or-”  
“Ten minutes, Gwaine.” Merlin didn't see the last look Perth shot him before he left, but it wasn't a pleasant one.  
He left, but they heard him ordering the same of the knights outside: everyone was to go to the training yard that wasn't in the council meeting. Merlin could stop the gasping breaths that were shaking his body. He was taking everyone out of the castle, away from him. Leaving him alone and at the mercy of whoever came.  
Not at the mercy of. He had his magic, that wasn't damaged. He was tired, but he could do it. He wasn't helpless.  
Gwaine looked at Merlin once Perth was gone. He could see the fear in his eyes, in the way he gasped in air as if he didn't have much time left. Maybe he didn't.  
“Gwaine, maybe you should go-” Gaius suggested, but Gwaine shook his head.  
“Perth? Perth did this?” The anger was clear in his body if it was somehow missed in his voice.   
“Gwaine, please, you should be going.”  
“And leave Merlin alone? That's not happening, sorry Gaius.”  
“We can take care of things here. You will be in trouble if you don't-”  
“Merlin could be dead if I do.” Gwaine's previous good humor was completely disappeared. “I'll stay.”  
“And do what? You don't even have a sword.” Merlin said quietly, attempting a smile but failing miserably. Gwaine looked at him hard for a moment before sitting himself down.   
“I don't need one. Besides, if it gets really bad, you can go hide around a corner and protect me.”  
Merlin was quiet for a moment. Yes, he'd been fairly certain Gwaine had known, and now it was pretty obvious. Gaius, however, seemed to be in denial.  
“I'm not sure how you think the boy-”  
“I know, Gaius. You don't have to pretend.” Gwaine was tense in the chair next to Merlin. None of them said anything for several minutes, and they could hear the knights outside making their way to the 'training' that awaited them. Gwaine clenched his fists and stared at the door. There went everyone else who could help them. They'd be far enough away not to notice anything was wrong, not until it was too late.   
“You should go.” Merlin said quietly.   
“I'm not leaving. You and Gaius need protection.”  
“Both of you should go.” Merlin didn't want anyone to get hurt because of him. After all, this was his fault. If he had been more careful, used his magic less, then maybe Perth wouldn't have been made aware of its existence. Maybe none of this would have been happening, and Merlin could be helping Arthur plan for the war instead of sitting in bed, waiting to be killed.  
“We'll do no such thing.” Gaius voice was surprisingly loud and angry when he spoke. Merlin looked at his guardian to find a fierce expression on his face, a bottle of something in his hand as if he was preparing to throw it. And, after a moment, Merlin realized he probably was. It was a special potion, brewed as a weapon, that would explode as soon as it was exposed to air. If Gaius threw it, it would make quite the distraction, or do quite the damage, depending on how it hit.  
Merlin's heart sank. Gaius couldn't fight. He was too old, and he'd never prepared for this. He had to leave, before it got bad. But he could tell he wouldn't be able to convince Gaius, short of forcing him from the room with magic. And he refused to do that.   
So they sat and waited. Gwaine kept glancing around the room, as if looking for something to fight with, and his leg bounced. He was full of energy, ready for a fight. Every once in a while he would mutter under his breath, but Merlin could never quite figure out what he was saying.  
It was fifteen minutes after Perth left that they heard the sound of a sword being drawn, just outside the door. Gwaine stood and bounced a couple of times, shaking out his hands before clenching them into fists. Gaius stepped back a few paces, still clutching at the vial. Merlin pushed himself up a bit, cringed, but kept going. He would die sitting up, at least, if he was to die.  
Quiet muttering outside the door for a few more minutes, and then it burst open. Gaius immediately threw the vial, which exploded on the wall right by the door. A fire started, eating at everything it could reach, including the leg of one of the men outside the door. The smoke it produced made it difficult to see, but apparently Gwaine was just fine – Merlin chalked that up to his many battles in taverns. He rushed one of the men that was making his way inside, tackling him to the floor. He punched him squarely in the face, knocking him out cold. Gwaine picked up the sword and charged into the hall, where he'd have more room to swing without damaging anything. Merlin was afraid when he could no longer see the knight, and could only trust that Gwaine's training was adequate to keep him alive.  
Merlin strained his eyes to see through the smoke that was just setting around the door. Gwaine seemed to be keeping them occupied in the hallway, for the most part. Merlin struggled to sit up better, ignoring the pain throbbing with every move. He needed to make sure Gwaine was safe. He shouldn't even be here-  
Someone stumbled through the smoke, and Merlin held his hand up, ready to cast a spell. The man looked at Gaius first, stumbling forward. Gwaine seemed to have done some damage to his leg, and he was limping badly, but he was determined, it seemed. Merlin didn't know where these men in unmarked peasants' clothes had come from, but obviously they had some powerful motivation behind them. Merlin muttered a few words and he went flying backwards, knocking his head against the wall and falling to the floor in a daze.   
Merlin waited for a while again, listening to the sounds of the fight in the hall, waiting to hear Gwaine cry out, for something to go terribly wrong.  
Silence came shortly after. Merlin strained his ears, debated the pros and cons of getting out of this bed, if he'd fall down flat before he made it halfway there. Then he saw the figure coming through the smoke, which was slowly dissipating. Merlin strained his eyes and made out Gwaine, but there was something not quite right about the way he was walking, and his face seemed... strained.   
Merlin cursed everything he could think of to curse as he realized Gwaine had a sword across his throat and a man at his back. They came farther into the room, stopping when Merlin could clearly see them.  
“We only want the sorcerer.” He said quietly. We. Merlin had hoped Gwaine had taken them all out, that this was the last one. That would make it much simpler.  
“I don't know what you're talking about.” Gwaine muttered, and flinched backward as the blade cut into his skin, dripping blood onto his shirt. He stilled, but his face was fierce.  
“We won't kill him.”   
Gwaine snorted and earned himself another shallow cut from the sword.   
Merlin's brain worked to find a spell that would be effective in this situation, that would keep Gwaine out of harm's way and deal with the intruders. He knew it had to be him, because Gwaine was out of commission and Gaius certainly wouldn't be able to move quick enough. All the knights were occupied, Arthur had been lured away by a council meeting.  
“Fine.” Merlin said quietly. Gwaine gave him a look that wasn't quite a glare, but was close enough.   
“Merlin-”  
“Gwaine. Stop.” Merlin pulled himself up, flinching at the pain despite his best efforts, and slowly began pulling his legs out of the bed. It hurt, oh it hurt, but he kept moving. The man never stopped watching Merlin, his eyes greedy. He must have been paid money, then. It wasn't to protect his family, not with a look like that. That was good. It meant he didn't feel bad when Gwaine took advantage of the distraction, slipping the dagger out of his belt and thrusting it backwards into his captor. Merlin's eyes flashed as he pulled the sword away from Gwaine, just saving the knight from a beheading. The mercenary stumbled backwards and fell, blood spilling all over the floor. Merlin sighed in relief as Gwaine hurried to his side.  
“You idiot.” He muttered, pushing Merlin back into the bed and helping him get comfortable. It was painful, but Merlin did his best not to let his worried friend see that. He was just trying to be helpful.  
“I need to go have a few words with the princess. Stay here. And don't let any of 'em sneak up on you, there could be some hiding somewhere.” He seemed to debate leaving Merlin for any length of time. Merlin sighed and gave him a small push with his magic, which made Gwaine grin and shake his head. “Right. Got it. I'll be back.” He jogged out of the room, leaving Gaius and Merlin in the company of the bodies of several men.   
“Gaius?”  
“I'm fine, my boy.” He joined Merlin next to the bed, looking a little shaken but otherwise no worse for wear. He systematically began checking over Merlin, and the boy let him: it seemed to be calming for his guardian, to check for injuries and fix the distress that Merlin's simple movements had caused.   
It was difficult to avoid looking at the blood on the floor, but it could be much worse, so Merlin dealt with it. Now how to explain a bunch of dead men to Arthur.


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur felt his hands grip the table unnecessarily hard. This was not going at all well. Most of the council was just going back and forth, a pissing contest to see who hated magic the most. Nothing was happening, hadn't happened since Leon had finished his report. It was exactly what Arthur suspected, Amira was readying for battle as they had been for the past week, but he had expected this to still rile the council into some kind of action. This was ridiculous, and he certainly could be doing better things with his time.  
Arthur was about to do something he would probably regret later – make some dumb comment, slam his hand on the table, something – when the doors crept open. Gwaine's head poked through the doors and immediately found Arthur's eyes. It was obvious something was wrong, especially because Gwaine did everything he could to avoid these meetings. Arthur often wished he could do the same, but responsibilities are different for the king.  
Arthur excused himself from the meeting, although he wasn't sure anyone had noticed his absence; they hadn't been listening to him for the past while, they could argue amongst themselves without him.  
Gwaine didn't stop to explain what was going on to Arthur, so Arthur matched his pace. “What's going on?”  
“We've had an attack.”  
“Where?”  
“In the castle.”  
Arthur frowned, picking up his pace as Gwaine did the same. “Where?”  
“Gaius and Merlin. They're both fine, don't worry. Shaken, is all.”  
“And you just happened to be there?”  
Gwaine didn't answer, but Arthur could see that he wasn't happy about something. Perhaps he should see to Merlin and Gaius first, though. Then he'd interrogate Gwaine about what was going on. There was something that he didn't know, and he hated not knowing something happening within his kingdom.  
They arrived at Gaius chambers to bodies. Arthur immediately knelt to check the pulse of one, and was surprised to find him alive, just unconscious. He glanced up at Gwaine, who shrugged.  
“Left my sword at home.”  
“You could have taken one of theirs.”  
“Didn't exactly cross my mind, princess.”  
Arthur frowned, standing. “Go fetch the guards, have them throw everyone still alive in the dungeons and dispose of the others.”  
Gwaine gave Arthur a mocking salute before heading off to find someone. He was almost as petulant as Merlin. He'd have to do something about that.  
He walked inside to the smell of blood. He was on high alert immediately, glad he had his sword. It was decorative, mostly just for show, but it would cut well enough. He found Merlin sitting in the bed where Arthur had left him, and Gaius tending to him. Arthur was on alert again, expecting Merlin to have a new injury to show, but the longer he watched the more convinced he was that Gaius was just fussing.  
He leaned against the wall in relief. Gwaine had set his heart pounding, thinking the worst had happened.  
“Merlin. Alright?” Arthur asked quietly, watching both men turn to look at him.  
Merlin nodded. “Gwaine kept them off us.” He answered quietly. He seemed tired, and Arthur assumed it was the shock that had taken its toll. Merlin didn't need this kind of excitement, not when he was still recovering from the attack. The attack that Arthur still hadn't made any progress on. He put that in the back of his mind so he could focus on the present.  
“Where were the guards?”  
Merlin frowned. “They went to train. It was-” He cut off and frowned.  
“Sir Perth told them they were to train in new formations.” Gaius finished for Merlin, meeting Arthur's gaze.  
“They weren't supposed to go. It must have been a misunderstanding.” But the nagging feeling in his guy told him there was something else going on. But Sir Perth was a good and loyal knight. He must have just misheard Arthur, or missed that he wanted the guards to stay on Merlin's door. After all, Merlin was just a servant, and it wasn't likely that anyone was looking for him.  
Except someone had come and found him. But they must have seen the castle was mostly empty and were looking for someone to divulge the king's whereabouts. They must have known that Merlin was close to Arthur, that attacking him would prove a point, if nothing else. Arthur wasn't content with these conclusions, but he was glad, at least, that Merlin wasn't the direct target. He still needed to be protected, but if it was too difficult... perhaps they would leave him alone, go straight for the source instead. Arthur could protect himself, had been training for it all his life. Merlin was just a boy from Ealdor, doing a poor job of serving the king.  
“You're both alright? No injury?” He knew the look Merlin was going to give him as soon as he ended his sentence, so he quickly tacked on, “Any further injury?”  
Merlin still gave him that look, the petulant snot. He shot the look right back, but secretly he was glad that the boy was alright; if he was well enough to be making faces, he certainly must be on the mend. Perhaps it hadn't been as bad an injury as he'd thought.  
He surveyed the body on the ground. That one was certainly dead. He could hear the guards running across the stone bricks underfoot as they made their way here. Merlin and Gaius would be safe as long as they were around.  
“Stay here.” He said firmly, directing a firm look at Merlin. Merlin gestured toward his wounded side.  
“Like I'm going anywhere.”  
“See that you don't.” Arthur didn't try to match the joking tone Merlin took with him, not right now. He wanted to be sure he knew that there was no exceptions, that he was serious. Merlin seemed to catch on, because the smart smirk he wore fell off his face.  
He didn't bother to stare Merlin down. He took off to where Gwaine stood just outside Gaius' chambers. “With me.” He said quietly. He led Gwaine, who was remarkably silent, all the way to his own chambers, shutting the door behind him.  
“Sit.” He gestured toward the table, but Gwaine took one look at the chairs before leaning against the wall.  
“What is it, princess?”  
“What really happened? I want you to tell me everything, regardless of whether you'll think I'd be offended or not.” Arthur pulled a chair out and sat, running a hand through his hair before resting his elbows on his knees and watching his knight.  
“After you left, I stayed for breakfast with Merlin and Gaius. It wasn't particularly appetizing, probably glad you weren't there for it. Gaius tries hard, but-”  
“Gwaine.” Arthur said quietly. “I'm not in the mood. Tell me anything relevant to the dead men in my castle, and nothing else.”  
The smirk left Gwaine's face. “Alright. I stayed there, Perth came around to tell us we were supposed to leave. I didn't trust it, didn't want to leave Merlin all alone when... I don't trust anyone right now, not with him. I suspected there would be an attack, so I stayed.”  
“You suspected-?”  
“Everyone was out of the castle, perfect time, right? Anyway, it wasn't long after Perth left that they came. I hadn't come with my sword, so I just... I did what I could, we got rid of them all.”  
“There's nothing else you want to tell me?” Because Gwaine was definitely not telling him the whole truth. There was some anger behind his eyes that was unwarranted for a random attack, especially when he'd taken out everyone who had been at fault. Unless... “You know who attacked Merlin in the first place, don't you?”  
“You don't want to know that.”  
“I don't want to know that? I don't want to know who attacked my manservant, who is sneaking into my castle and-”  
“No, you don't.” Gwaine cut off Arthur's building rage with a face daring him to do something. So Arthur stood and walked closer.  
“I do, Gwaine. Tell me.” His voice was threateningly quiet.  
“Perth.” Gwaine seemed defiant, and at first Arthur thought he was just pulling out the first name he thought of. When Gwaine continued to stare at him, begging for Arthur to throw the first punch, he realized that wasn't the case. Gwaine actually believed that one of his best knights was the one who had attacked Merlin.  
“Tell me Gwaine, have you met Sir Perth?”  
“Arthur-”  
“No, I'm sure you have a perfectly logical reason for blaming one of the only knights in the inner circle who is of noble blood. I'm sure it's not just your biases.”  
“You think-” Gwaine cut himself off, staring at Arthur with profound incredulity. “You think I'm blaming Perth because of his parents? You think I'm that petty?”  
“Prove to me that you're not.” Arthur challenged.  
“You didn't see the look on Merlin's face when that... that man walked through the door. He was terrified, Arthur. I know he's just a servant, so his opinion doesn't mean much-”  
Arthur didn't even realize he was moving until his fist hit Gwaine's cheek, forcing the man off balance. He stumbled to the side, looked up, and stood up straight. “Prove to me that you care about him.”  
“Why would you even suggest-”  
“Then for a minute stop and think, Arthur. Perth sends all of the knights away-”  
“That was under my orders.”  
“Your orders were to leave Merlin defenseless? To take all knights so far away that they would hear Merlin dying? In the middle of a meeting, in the rain?”  
“Well, no, I thought we'd agreed it didn't make much sense in the rain-”  
“Oh did you? Then why then, of all times? Why did he decide everyone needed to leave ten minutes before a bunch of men broke into the castle?”  
“That was the time we'd agreed upon, maybe he didn't understand...” Arthur trailed off as his argument got weaker.  
“He knew you were going to be busy during that time, he planned to have everyone else equally busy. No one to help Merlin. It didn't fit into his plan to change the time, so he didn't. Talk to Perth, if you want. He'll have some wonderfully crafted story, I'm sure. But have Merlin talk to him, you might see some things you didn't before.”  
“Why would he attack Merlin?”  
“Why wouldn't he? Arthur, he's close to all of us, his death...” Gwaine crossed his arms and leaned against the wall again. “It would hurt all of us, just before the battle. They'd have an advantage.”  
“Not that they need it.” Arthur muttered, but it all made too much sense. He didn't like the pieces falling into place like this, not from one of his best... But he'd have to do something.  
“Gwaine... have Gaius give you something for the swelling.” He muttered. “And ask Leon to bring Sir Perth in. I don't care how, but I don't want him mingling with the knights right now.”  
Gwaine didn't smile at his victory, and Arthur understood why: this wasn't a victory. It gave neither of them pleasure to see Perth turning against them. That made it harder for him to disbelieve Gwaine's story, when the man looked beaten even though he'd won.  
Gwaine nodded. “Aye, princess. I'll grab my sword first, if that's alright with you.”  
Arthur just nodded, running a hand through his hair. It still needed a trim. Perhaps Gwen would help him with it when she returned. He hoped she'd be returning soon. He needed someone to talk some sense into him, to talk him through everything, and Merlin was too involved. They were all too involved, he thought humorlessly, but Merlin was the one who'd played the part of a sheath.  
With no warning, Arthur turned and punched the bed post, feeling his knuckles protest strongly but also feeling a slight relief with the pain. If Perth had really done this, how many other knights were tainted by his betrayal? Arthur would have to comb through the ranks, to be sure. He couldn't trust anyone... He could trust Gwaine, of course. Obviously he was too close to Merlin... but perhaps it was part of some plan, Gwaine was turning Perth in so Arthur would trust him, then Gwaine would turn on him in the middle of battle. Maybe this was just to get Arthur to stop looking, so Gwaine could continue to sabotage them from the inside-  
By that logic, anyone who wasn't the guilty party could turn on him. He couldn't think like that. He had allies, and Perth had been distant as of late... He really didn't need to be dealing with this on top of the battle. He was sure the meeting was broken up by now, waiting to get back together and talk further about who hated magic the most... maybe they hadn't even realized what was happening in the castle and were still doing that. He wouldn't be too surprised, if he was honest.  
He had better make sure someone would go clean the floor in Gaius' chambers, since obviously Merlin wouldn't be able to do it, and Gaius was much too old to be kneeling on the floor like that. They didn't deserve to live with the scent of blood in their noses because of the king's oversight.  
The knock on the door drew Arthur back to his surroundings, and he quietly called for whoever it was to enter. Leon walked inside.  
“Sire, Sir Perth is being held in the dungeons. What exactly is this about?” Leon was close to Perth, but Arthur didn't think Leon would be in on a tryst against the kingdom. He'd been too loyal for too long, and Arthur didn't think there had been any reason for that to change. He could be wrong, certainly.  
“Perth is suspected in the attack on Merlin, and treason against Camelot.”  
Leon was very good at keeping his features schooled, but even so Arthur knew he was shocked. “Sire, Perth... He's been loyal to this kingdom, has prove himself in battle-”  
“I have reason to suspect him, Leon. Question him. You know him better than anyone else.” Arthur launched into all the details, and he could tell that Leon came to much the same conclusion that Arthur had; it made too much sense, and that wasn't a pleasant realization. He was glad he wasn't the only one.  
“I see. And if I find him guilty?”  
“I'll speak with him then. He may have details about the enemy that can be of use to us. But I'd like you to find him without a doubt guilty first.” He wasn't entirely sure that he could keep from throttling the knight if he were the one to make the final accusation. He was too close to Merlin, and his emotions were too unpredictable currently.  
Leon nodded and went to question his friend.  
Arthur fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, letting his thoughts wander. There was no chance to be bored right now, and Arthur missed being bored. Oh, he complained when it was happening, forced Merlin to go on hunting trips with him for no reason other than he needed something to do, but it was always much more appealing at times like this. What he wouldn't give to just drag Merlin on a hunt, even if they didn't catch much because Merlin was the biggest klutz he'd ever met.  
It took Arthur a while to pull himself off of the bed, and when he did he looked around the room. It was a real mess in here. He would hate for Merlin to have to come back to this after he'd been on bed rest for so long, and knowing him, the boy would come before he should. He'd still be hurting, still be weak.  
Arthur got up and began clearing away the clutter and mess in the room, starting with his clothes and continuing. He'd have someone else do the really difficult chores, but he could manage this. It made things seem... not normal, because he'd never clean his own room, but as if the world wasn't crashing down around his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it.


	6. Chapter 6

Merlin was going stir crazy.  
It had been a week since the second attack, and nothing had changed. The army still seemed to be keeping it's distance, no one had attacked a third time, and Arthur was still going crazy trying to decide what to do with the abundance of sorcerers that seemed to be helping the opposing army. But neither side had made a move, and Merlin had begun to wonder if Amira was just trying to wear the king down. Not seriously, of course; he was sure they were waiting on something before attacking, or they were missing something...  
He couldn't get it out of his head that he had something to do with the halted army. He'd thought he was just supposed to die, to keep magic out of the kingdom or get rid of the protection he afforded both Camelot and Arthur. But they hadn't made a mad dash to kill him during the second attack.   
“We only want the sorcerer. We won't kill him.”   
At the time, it had seemed clear that those words were a lie, a ploy to calm both Gwaine and Merlin down before he made the killing blow. But there would have been opportunity, surely, without that. He'd had Gwaine at sword point. Merlin wouldn't have given in, not really, but he couldn't have known that. Very few people knew about the true nature of the king's manservant, and he doubted those few would be turning secrets over to the enemy.  
He had heard little to nothing about what was going on, except tidbits that Arthur let slip. Gwaine had straight up told Merlin that he wasn't supposed to divulge secrets, under Arthur's order, and he wasn't about to get anymore on the king's – well, princess's – bad side than he already was. As far as he knew, Arthur wasn't angry with Gwaine, but he only got to hear what happened in Gaius' chambers, which wasn't much.  
Gaius had been called away quickly to deal with some accidental dismemberment in the fields, and Arthur was busy pacing a hole in the floor in the throne room while he listened to the same aggravating reports he'd been receiving the whole week. Gwaine was probably sitting outside the door. He'd made it his personal duty to make sure nothing else happened to Merlin, and while the boy appreciated the sentiment, he was tired of being babysat.   
Merlin prodded at the bandage, feeling very little pain. Either Gaius' tonics were getting better, or he was healing quickly. He assumed his magic was responding to his desire to be well enough to help Arthur. He could play it off as if it wasn't as bad as everyone thought, easily. He'd done it before.   
Merlin eased himself out of the bed. Alright, he was feeling a decent amount of pain, but not enough to keep him lying around for another week. He couldn't stand the sight of these walls anymore, nor the meager sunlight filtering in through the windows. He needed to see people and the world outside of this room more than he needed to spare himself the little pain it would take to walk.  
He hobbled to the door and pulled it open, seeing Gwaine sitting across from it as expected. The knight raised an eyebrow at Merlin.  
“I thought Gaius said you'd be laid up for another week.”  
Merlin shrugged. “I'm fine.”  
The corner of Gwaine's mouth twitched up. “He said you'd never heal if you kept trying to run around.”  
“I seem to be healing just fine.”  
Gwaine watched him for a moment, a hand lightly pressed against the wall for balance. “Fine. But I have to go with you.”  
“I don't need your help-”  
“It's either that or I throw you back in bed.” Gwaine looked smug. Merlin wished he could wipe that look off of his face, but he didn't dare use magic so openly. So he just nodded and let Gwaine escort him through the castle.  
“Where to?” The knight asked, chipper as ever. Merlin shrugged.   
“I just needed to get out of there.”  
“I can understand that. I was going crazy in the hall, myself.” He grinned at Merlin, who was keeping a hand firmly on the wall to keep himself steady. Maybe he wasn't as ready to leave as he'd thought. But he wasn't about to go back to that room and sit by himself all over again. He kept his mouth shut, even though he caught Gwaine watching him struggle out of the corner of his eye.  
Gwaine, however, said nothing, and they continued on their walk. They didn't pass many people: mostly the kingdom was tied up with putting as much food away as possible and preparing for the oncoming storm. Merlin didn't mind. He was feeling weaker with every step, and he didn't want to have to explain why he was out of bed already. Or, worse yet, have one of them run and tell Arthur. The king was being strangely persistent that Merlin do whatever Gaius said, sometimes even suggesting more than Gaius suggested. It was getting on Merlin's nerves, especially because the king didn't seem aware that he would have accepted much less were it him lying in bed. The hypocrite.  
When they reached the courtyard, Merlin found a wooden bench and practically fell onto it, feeling as if his legs wouldn't be able to support his weight for much longer. Gwaine sat much more gracefully next to him, and they sat in silence as the sun beat down on a particularly warm day. It was nice, even if it was quieter than Merlin would have liked.  
“It's been like this ever since.” Gwaine didn't need to specify what the inciting incident had been, and he knew the knight didn't like to talk about it. Merlin was sure both Arthur and Gwaine, if not any others, felt it was their own weakness that had allowed Merlin to get attacked, and the boy had learned that knights hated to discuss weaknesses, even knights as down-to-earth as Gwaine.   
“Has Gwen come back yet?”  
Gwaine frowned. “No. Princess is going crazy, waiting. She said she'd be gone at least this long, though, if not more.”  
“But with the battle...?”  
“Yeah. We all thought they'd come back as soon as they heard. But so far, we've neither heard nor seen anything from them.”  
Merlin felt fear as he thought on what could have happened to their friends, but he shut it down immediately. They probably just hadn't heard. They were fine. Nothing else was allowed to go wrong.  
Another long silence settled between them.   
“So... Has he said anything?” Merlin finally asked. No one had told him anything about Sir Perth, and Arthur was always strangely silent on the matter. He hadn't wanted to ask, hadn't wanted to know, but he felt he should be prepared, in case...  
“No.” Gwaine leaned back against the wall. “He's not said a word, about anything. Not why he did it, not if he's working with anyone, not even if he's guilty or not. I thought maybe he did it because...” Gwaine made a weird, swirling gesture with his hands, apparently attempting to mimic magic. “But if that was the reason, I would have thought he'd start screaming sorcerer.”  
“Me too.”  
“He hasn't, though. And I'll be the first to deny it if he does. There's no reason for anyone to believe that, if it happens.”  
“But you knew. Who else...?”  
“No one. Believe me mate, you're safe.”  
Merlin sighed. While he didn't feel safe, he also knew there was little he could do about it right now. So he let it drop, thanking Gwaine quietly as he too leaned backwards, cringing slightly at the stretch, and rested his head against the stone wall. It wasn't the most comfortable, but he was so tired, it didn't need to be.  
“All right?”  
“I'm fine.”  
Merlin didn't have to look at Gwaine to know the look on the knight's face. It was very similar to the one Arthur often gave him when he didn't tell the whole truth about his health.  
“I'm just tired.” He amended.  
“You're sure?”  
“Yes.”  
“Why do I not believe you?” Arthur's voice made Merlin jump, and immediately he doubled over as pain radiated out from the bandaged area on his torso. It was several minutes before his breathing had calmed down enough that he no longer saw double.  
“Prat.” Merlin choked out when he finally had enough oxygen.  
“It wouldn't have been a problem if you didn't insist on disobeying.” Arthur muttered, kneeling next to the raven-haired boy.   
“Couldn't stand the walls anymore.”  
“The walls?”  
“I could see your face in them, cold and hard and not particularly pretty.”  
Gwaine's guffaw more than made up for the glare that Arthur gave him, and he gave Arthur a cheeky grin.   
“Come on, back to Gaius. You're not healed.”  
“Arthur, I'm-”  
“Dont. Don't say it. I can see you're not healed.”  
“I'm sick of sitting, let me help-”  
“Help what?!” Arthur stood and looked down at Merlin for a moment before he broke into a pace. “You're a serving boy that was almost killed for gods know what reason. I'm planning for a war, and that's not something you can help with. Your job is to get well enough that you can help Gaius when the time comes, do you understand me?” He paused in his pacing to glare at Merlin when the boy didn't immediately answer.  
“No.”  
Arthur's mouth dropped open for a moment as he stared. “Excuse me?”  
“You're excused.”  
“I-” Arthur looked like he really wanted to throw something at Merlin, but there was nothing to throw and, looking at the boy, it wouldn't end well. He was still struggling to pull in enough breath without causing himself pain, he didn't need to get hit. So Arthur took a few deep breaths, ran a hand through his hair, and muttered, “Merlin, please.”  
“Did the king of Camelot just say 'please' to a serving boy?”  
“Yes, he did, now do what I say.” Arthur muttered through gritted teeth as Merlin gloated.  
“No. I'll help you.”   
Arthur threw his hands up in the air and started walking away. He got ten steps toward his chambers when he stopped himself and turned around. “Listen here, Merlin, I'm the king and you're my servant and you'll do as I say.”  
Merlin glared defiantly at Arthur, and they stared at each other for several minutes. Gwaine chuckled to himself initially, but eventually became bored with this test of wills and stood.  
“Alright Princess, I'll take care of him, just go do whatever you have to do.”  
“Whatever I have to do is know this idiot isn't out killing himself while I'm out trying to keep the rest of us getting killed.”  
“You know an easy way to do that?”  
“Melrin, don't you-”  
“Let me go with you.”  
“Let you come with me? How do I explain that, just letting my half-dead servant attend all of the meetings and councils and training?”  
“I am not half-dead.” Merlin muttered.  
“Three quarters dead, then?”  
“I'm fine, Arthur!”  
“You're pale as a sheet just sitting there, you honestly think you're fine?”  
“Yes, you clotpole, now just let me-”  
“No.”  
“Yes.”  
Gwaine was about to interrupt the second long battle of wills when a loud bang and a flash of bright, white light made them all flinch. Merlin pushed himself to his feet, wincing but standing tall through sheer force of will. Arthur had stumbled backwards a few steps, so he was close enough that even with the dots swirling around his vision Merlin could see the king.   
He felt his magic swirling beneath the surface of his skin, prepared to deal with whatever threat faced them. When his vision cleared, he was confused. There was no one new there, no one trying to kill them or force them to submit. Merlin frowned and glanced at Arthur, but the king wasn't paying attention to him. Merlin followed his gaze. What he saw cause him to stumble backwards and fall, making his insides churn as his stomach threatened to unleash its contents all over the stone bricks beneath his feet. The fall surely caused severe bruising in his backside, if no where else, but he didn't even notice.  
The wall of the courtyard was dripping with letters painted in blood. At least, Merlin assumed it was blood, because Sir Perth lay on the ground beneath them, looking much too pale to be alive with a red line across his throat. The wall read, “Turn over the sorcerer and the queen will live.”  
Merlin didn't remember passing out. The next thing he knew, he was lying on the same cot in Gaius' chambers, with Arthur pacing nearby and Gwaine tense in the chair beside him. He groaned loudly, and Arthur stopped momentarily to look at him.  
“Alive?”  
“I'm fine.”   
Arthur made that face, but he didn't say anything more as he continued pacing. His hair was well beyond help now, the amount of times he'd obviously put his hands through it increasing ever few steps. He was pale, much too pale, but after a moment he remembered why. Gwen. Gwen was in trouble.   
And he knew what he was going to do before even a second had passed. He had to save her, she didn't deserve this.  
Gwaine gave Merlin a look, clearly a stern no. Gwaine knew what he would do, without a doubt. Merlin shrugged and Gwaine's fingers clenched into fists. He would go too. Merlin shook his head, so Gwaine made a casual gesture over his side, where Merlin could feel his injury.   
“Merlin, are you well enough to ride?” Arthur asked suddenly, staring at Merlin. Merlin's eyes widened infinitesimally. “We need to be going as soon as possible.”  
“Going...?” Merlin asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“To save Gwen.”  
“'My job is to get well enough that I can help Gaius when the time comes,' if I remember correctly.”   
“Merlin, stop being an ass and tell me if you can come.”  
Merlin could see the stress in his friend's eyes, and immediately he felt awful for his snark. This wasn't the time, and he knew it. “Of course,” he said quietly, watching Arthur's shoulders sag with mild relief. Merlin didn't know why he seemed to be glad, until he spoke.  
“It's just you and me, understand? We can't have more people, it'll be too noticeable, we'll never... they can't kill her.” His eyes were haunted, and Merlin knew that was because he'd spent much too long – however long Merlin was out – thinking up all the scenarios that could be happening, and would happen if they failed. He'd already come to the conclusion that he couldn't take his knights, only Merlin. So he wouldn't be alone, or so Merlin could help, he wasn't sure, but the boy wasn't about to say no.  
“Arthur, Merlin shouldn't go, he's not well.” Merlin shot Gwaine a poisonous look as the knight stared at Arthur.  
“I can't take you Gwaine.”  
“Why?”  
“Because two knights are hard to miss. Merlin is so pathetic, I can pass him off as a kid brother. You...” Arthur sighed. “You're a good knight, Gwaine, and it's obvious. Keep everyone here safe. Please.”  
Gwaine looked ready to fight Arthur, but he simply said, “Fine, princess. Just keep him safe.”  
Merlin wasn't sure if the look that passed between the two men was affection or some kind of challenge, but it only lasted a few seconds before Arthur was leaving.   
“Two horses, Merlin, packed with several days' worth of provisions. We leave as soon as possible.”  
“You should wait for morning.” Gwaine argued, but Arthur was already gone. Gwaine's fierce look turned to Merlin. “You can't go.”  
“Make me stay.” Merlin's voice was hard as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and wobbled. Before Gwaine could help, he stood up straight and began moving around the small area, gathering up various herbs and medical supplies.  
“You're hardly strong enough to walk to the courtyard, how do you expect to make it all the way to the camp? It's too far away, you'll fall dead off your horse before you make it.”  
“I'll be fine. I'll heal it on the way.”  
“With magic?”  
“Yes.”  
“Arthur will catch you.”  
“Not if I'm secretive about it.”  
“You think you can hide your glowing golden eyes from him when you're the only other person there?”  
“I think he'll be more concerned with getting there quickly than with my eye color.”  
“It'll make you weak, won't it? You won't be able to keep either of you alive if you're exhausted-”  
“Gwaine, it's my destiny to keep him safe, and I'm going to. Besides... Gwen doesn't deserve this. I'm the one that needs to fix it.”  
“You're the one they want.”  
“And if I have to turn myself over-”  
The chair toppled over as Gwaine stood suddenly, his eyes heated. “You will not.”   
Merlin stared back at him for a while longer before pulling his jacket on and carefully placing his bag over one shoulder. “I won't let her die.”  
“Merlin, you can't-”  
Merlin left, slamming the door behind him and stumbling into the wall across as it threw him off balance. He heard Gwain charging after him and muttered a few words under his breath. When Gwaine tried to open the door, it stuck firmly closed.  
“I'm sorry Gwaine.” He said softly as Gwaine howled and pounded on the door. Another few words from Merlin and all sound stopped, eliminating the risk that someone would find him and help him escape. He couldn't get out until Merlin was long gone and there was no chance of the knight catching them.  
It was difficult to get the horses saddled without overextending and hurting himself. It was even harder to get himself into the saddle, and he sat for several minutes clinging to the horse as he dealt with the painful effects. But soon he had gotten to the courtyard, just as Arthur hurried out to meet him.  
“You're sure you're fine?” Arthur asked as he flexed his fingers after putting on a riding glove. Merlin nodded, and Arthur mounted his horse.   
In moments, they were charging out of Camelot, on the way to save Gwen. Every time hoofs touched ground, Merlin cringed. This would be a long trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! You are awesome!


	7. Chapter 7

“Are you alright?” Arther asked, watching Merlin's shoulders droop and his face pale.  
“I'm fine.”   
Arthur groaned. He hated that word, 'fine.' Well, not the word so much. He hated when it came out of Merlin's mouth, because it almost always meant that he was struggling and refused to share that struggle with Arthur. Merlin let his head drop again once he thought Arthur wasn't looking, and the king frowned. It was really hurting the boy. Arthur shouldn't have let him come, but there was just something... he couldn't go without Merlin. Merlin kept him stable, helped him keep his emotions in check and his thoughts clear.  
Mostly clear. Except when he was wondering how the boy was even managing to stay on his horse. “Merlin, let's take a break, get some lunch going.” Arthur's voice seemed to pull Merlin from a daze. He looked up, gave Arthur a half smile, and asked,  
“What, can't keep going?”  
“If I say we're stopping, Merlin, that's all you need to know. Gather some firewood.” Arthur dismounted quickly, trying to inconspicuously stand close to Merlin's horse as the boy did the same. He almost fell, but he caught himself just in time. Arthur sighed inwardly. If he thought Merlin would make it, he'd send the kid back on his own. However, he was sure Merlin would find some kind of trouble before he even got halfway back to Camelot, and then Arthur would...  
He wouldn't send Merlin back. He'd find a way to keep the boy safe.  
“You know what?” Arthur said, realizing having the boy run around picking up sticks probably wasn't the best idea. “Start pulling stuff out of the packs. I'll get the firewood. I need a stretch.”  
The thankful look on Merlin's face made it clear neither of them were fooled, but Arthur didn't care. He stalked off to the nearby forest and began looking for decent firewood, something he hadn't had to do in... well, a very long time. He didn't understand why Merlin complained so much about it, all he had to do was find sticks. No one asked him to carry logs or cut down trees or anything that would actually be difficult.  
He brought his bundle back, feeling as though he might not mind gathering firewood again, to find Merlin laying on the ground. He didn't realize he'd dropped all of his precious wood as he raced to the boy, dropping to his knees and putting a hand on Merlin's shoulder. He was about to check for a pulse when Merlin snored. Loudly.  
Arthur rolled his eyes, unable to show his relief even with no one to witness it. The idiot, he'd exhausted himself, and they'd only gone half a day. But he needed rest. So Arthur went back to his pile of wood, picked it up again, and returned to making a fire.   
Merlin woke when their meal was almost finished. He pushed himself up, grimacing but attempting to smooth his face and hide it. Arthur let him think he'd succeeded as he began dishing up their meal, handing a bowl to Merlin before serving himself.   
Arthur ate quickly, hungrier than he'd realized. Merlin picked at the food, eating a bite for every five minutes of swirling it around.   
“So...” Arthur asked as he set his bowl down. They wouldn't leave until Merlin had eaten enough. But Arthur would go crazy if he had to sit and wait, quietly. “That sorcerer...”  
Arthur wasn't sure, but it seemed as though Merlin tensed at the mention. He frowned, then assumed it was residual shock. Or fear, perhaps. Maybe Merlin had been a victim of the sorcerer that had apparently hidden himself in Camelot. That made the king angry, and he felt his fists clench automatically.   
“I... what about him?” Merlin asked, staring at his bowl. He took another small bite.  
“You've no idea who it could be?”  
“Uh... no. I didn't know...”  
He was lying. It was so clear that Merlin was lying, he'd never been good at it.   
“Are you sure?”  
“Yeah. 'Course.”  
Arthur looked at the ground. Merlin was afraid. The sorcerer probably threatened him. That was probably why they'd gone after Merlin in the first place, he realized suddenly. He knew who the sorcerer was, and they wanted... but why would they want the information, if they already knew a sorcerer existed in Camelot? And why wouldn't Merlin just tell them?  
Unless Merlin was friends with the magic user.  
Arthur threw that thought away immediately. Merlin had proven over and over that magic wasn't his friend, if by no other means than getting beat up by it again and again. Arthur could only assume the sorcerer had entered his kingdom seeking to hide, and Merlin had found out. But when Merlin threatened to reveal him to the king, Merlin's life had been threatened.   
It could have been the sorcerer that stabbed Merlin in the first place, to keep him quiet. He could have tried to kill Merlin because he knew they'd be looking for him. The thought made Arthur sick.   
But no, Sir Perth had been the one, according to Gwaine. And Arthur couldn't believe Gwaine would lie about something as serious as that, because he'd want justice done just as much as Arthur. Unless Perth had been framed.  
Then why had Perth been killed? And why had he refused to say anything? Clearly he wasn't the sorcerer they were looking for, and Arthur couldn't believe a man as boring as Perth had magic, besides.   
Arthur mulled over these thoughts for much too long, and Merlin had to jolt him from his thoughts by beginning to clean and repack everything. He was shaky, but determined, so Arthur silently rose and helped him. It wasn't long before they were ready to set out again, and Arthur watched as Merlin struggled to mount his horse. He wanted to help, but he knew Merlin wouldn't be happy about it. There was a lot of pride in his manservant, even if it was hard to take him seriously most of the time.  
The ride was uncharacteristically quiet, and Arthur, though he usually complained, missed the idle, pointless chatter that Merlin was so fond of. He even missed being called names, although he had to admit that he grew bored of the same old names every single trip. Still, especially without the knights to add to the noise, it was eerily silent, only the occasional snorts from the horses causing a break.  
“Merlin.”  
“Yes?”  
Arthur paused. He didn't really have anything in mind. He just needed to hear Merlin say something, to be sure that he was fine. Silence was always a cause for worry with his friend.  
“Did you forget?”  
“No, of course I didn't forget.” Arthur spat, pleased that Merlin at least retained some of his snark. “I was surprised Gwaine didn't try to stop us leaving.”  
Merlin didn't say anything for a moment. “Yeah. It's unlike him.”  
“I assumed he would-”  
“You should have taken him instead.” Merlin didn't look up when Arthur whipped his head around to stare. The boy's head hung low, watching the ground as his horse trotted forward.   
“What did you just say?”  
“He could be more help to you.”  
“Merlin, don't even start. You already know-”  
“Gwaine's a knight now, but he wasn't always. He could have blended just fine. He'd attract a lot less attention than you, you know it.”  
“You've never let me go anywhere without you in the past, Merlin. You can't be serious.”  
“He could help you, is all.”   
Something was wrong, but Arthur had never been intuitive enough to understand the slight hints Merlin gave through body language. He stared for a good long while, watching Merlin avoid his stare, feeling anger swell beneath the surface of his skin as he could only guess at the reasons that made Merlin seem so different on this trip.  
There was nothing else to say. Not right then. Arthur finally turned around, pushing his horse a little faster and assuming Merlin would do the same. He seethed silently as they continued toward the enemy encampment. It had only taken his knights a day and a half to reach it, but Arthur knew they would get there later. It made him nervous, wondering what was happening to both his wife and back in Camelot. He'd been so intent on finding Gwen, getting her home safely and in one piece, that he'd hardly taken precautions against the sorcerer hiding in his home. He'd put Leon in charge, asked him to do whatever it took to find this man and deal with him appropriately, but if the army attacked... Arthur took a deep breath. Leon had been fighting longer than Arthur, he knew how to deal with battles. Camelot would be fine. They'd find Gwen, bring her home, and everything would be fine. He repeated those words to himself as they rode.  
He didn't want to stop for the night, but when Merlin fell from his horse, Arthur decided that was enough. After checking his friend to make sure he was fine, Arthur laid him on a bedroll and began pulling out dried meat and bread. He didn't want a fire, not now when they were nearing the enemy camp, so they would have a cold meal tonight. If Merlin woke up, which was seeming unlikely as the boy snored lightly. He could eat in the morning, otherwise. It wasn't as if their meal would go bad before then.  
Arthur ate in silence, watching Merlin sleep and feeling ever sense prickling as he expected an attack. He wasn't sure why he was so worked up: they still had a good day's ride before they reached the enemy camp, but something about this place felt... wrong. It was too quiet, he supposed, and it felt weird to be the only one awake this early in the night.   
Arthur finished eating and began removing his armor, one piece at a time. It was difficult on his own, because of the various straps and buckles in hard to reach places, but he managed it eventually. The bedroll felt comfortable after a day on horseback, and while he intended to stay awake, he found his eyes slipping closed. Even though his instincts screamed that he needed to stay awake, keep watch over the camp, his brain slowly grew foggy and his eyes slowly closed until he fell deeply under.  
In his dreams, they were ambushed. They didn't stand a chance against the men that appeared on all sides of their camp, and Arthur couldn't stop them taking both himself and Merlin away in ropes. He felt entirely helpless, completely unable to do anything to stop them and protect Merlin.   
He woke groggily, and it was very difficult for him to open his eyes. He thought long and hard about just rolling over and going back to sleep, but that thought disappeared when he heard a sharp cry. His eyes flew open and he reached for a sword that wasn't there.  
“Oy, king. Settle down.” Arthur's eyes shot to the source of the voice, looking at a large man with a thick black beard and dull green eyes. He held Merlin up by the rope on his hands, but the boy seemed unable to support his own weight and was simply hanging, grimacing.   
Arthur completely ignored the order and stood, glancing for a weapon. When Merlin cried out again, he flinched and looked at where Merlin hung. One of the other men, this one with bright red hair and a scarred face, was pressing mercilessly against the stab wound. Arthur put his hands up and fell to his knees, watching Merlin's face get paler as the pain became too much.   
“Alright, just don't hurt him.” He said quietly. “He hasn't done anything to you.”  
“He's runnin' around with you, he's done somethin' to us.” Redhead's logic was absolutely flawless. Nevertheless, Arthur kept his mouth shut, watching as they dropped Merlin to the ground, where he curled up on himself and shuddered. Arthur wanted to go to him, to make sure he was alright and protect him from any further injury, but he knew that would only result in further hurt for his friend. So he sat still as one man crept toward him with a bundle of rope. He struggled for only a second when he went to tie the king, but one cry from Merlin had him doing exactly as they demanded, although he was fuming the entire time. He had been an idiot to go to sleep. He'd known something wasn't right, and it was all his fault that this was happening. Guilt wasn't the emotion that clouded his vision, however: anger made him see red and made his heart thud against his rib cage.  
Arthur was hauled to his feet by the ropes behind his back, and those were attached to their horses. Merlin dropped like a stone when they hauled him over to the horse, and after a moment's hushed conversation they hauled him up and tossed him over the saddle. Merlin grimaced as he landed hard on his side.   
They took only a few more minutes to finish destroying their camp, ripping up their bedrolls and soaking the ground and the fabric with some kind of blood out of a jar. Arthur groaned inwardly. His knights wouldn't believe they went easily, but this would certainly discourage them. He hoped they were smart enough to look past the camp and see the footprints leading away, obviously more prints than theirs.   
The kidnappers mounted their own horses after tying the reigns of Arthur's and Merlin's to their saddles. Arthur stumbled forwards as the horses started, but easily settled into the pace that was set for him. His eyes never left Merlin, who was pale and unconscious, by the looks of it. Arthur was glad of that, at least. As soon as they got wherever they were going, he was going to check his wound and do his best to fix the damage that had been done.  
He should have brought Gwaine. He hated the thought as soon as it passed through his mind but he couldn't feel sorry for it. Gwaine wasn't injured. Gwaine would have been able to split a watch with him. Or, if nothing else, Gwaine wouldn't be hurting like Merlin was.  
Or they would have injured Gwaine, because he was strong and healthy and would be a problem otherwise. He couldn't know what would have happened if Gwaine was around, and that wasn't important at the moment. Now he needed to think of what to do to get them both out of this situation, get Gwen out of her prison, and get them all back to Camelot alive in order to deal with the threat facing his kingdom.  
It was a lot to think about, but he assumed he had a long time to think.  
He glanced up at Merlin again, a quick glance to make sure the boy was alright, before he ducked his head and began thinking. He was dismayed to realize that they were leaving no footprints behind, neither the horses nor Arthur. Magic. He swore under his breath. He couldn't rely on his knights to find them, not now. It was all up to him, because he wouldn't risk Merlin anymore than he already had.  
It was still dark for several more hours, during which Arthur trotted along, feeling the chafing on his wrists from the rough rope and wondering if Merlin was feeling the same. The men were making no effort to be quiet, which made Arthur suspect they had gained control of this area long ago. He was almost positive that Queen Amethyst didn't realize this was happening. She wanted to teach Arthur a lesson, yes, but kidnapping Arthur on top of recruiting sorcerers and threatening Gwen was too far out of character. Something was very wrong in Amira, right under the Queen's nose.   
Daylight had been around for a few hours before Merlin's eyes cracked open. He winced and caught Arthur's eye, before cracking a weak, crooked grin. Arthur shook his head. Unbelievable.  
“Just stay still and you won't have to walk.” Arthur muttered.   
Merlin just nodded.  
“Is it bad?” Arthur gestured towards Merlin's wound.   
“I'm fine.”  
“Merlin-”  
“Could be worse.” Merlin amended. Arthur still wasn't satisfied, but he knew pressing wouldn't get him any better an answer, and would probably draw unwanted attention to them.  
“I'll get us out of this. Just hold on.”  
“To what?”  
Arthur frowned as Merlin glanced at his hands, tied behind his back. Always the joker. That was positive, he told himself. It wasn't only annoying, it meant Merlin was well enough to make dumb jokes. It was good.  
They stopped not long after that, apparently to water the horses. Not Arthur, who had been walking for several hours with no break. Not Merlin, who was forced from the horse and tied next to Arthur, despite his weak legs trembling and threatening to give just from the weight of his body. His body that was still thin and still recovering from a bad injury. No, only the horses. Then they pushed on again. Merlin would have fallen, if not for Arthur's shoulder placed conveniently in front of him. It made Arthur trip and skid painfully to his knees, but Merlin would have done worse to himself. He would have to be careful, though; his natural tendency was to protect Merlin, even at his own expense, but he needed to be in one piece to get them out of this. He would hate it, but he'd have to keep reminding himself it was for both of their good, in the end. Merlin would understand, and Arthur could already tell the boy wanted to chastise him for that little nudge, but he would feel guilty every time he put himself first.  
It was several more hours before they saw the smoke rising from the camp, but still an hour more before they could see the temporary structures erected to house the army. Merlin was still stumbling along, although how he managed to stay on his feet that way was miraculous to Arthur. He was much worse for the wear, and the king could only hope they'd be tied somewhere with room to sit, at least. Merlin needed that much.  
They slowed as the reached two sentinels standing guard outside the collection of tents. A short, handmade wall surrounded the camp, and while Arthur thought it in itself would do nothing, he assumed there was some sort of magic tied to it. Otherwise they wouldn't bother.  
A quiet conversation that Arthur could hear, and they continued moving into the camp. It was hard for Merlin to start again, Arthur could tell, but he managed. They made it to a small tent with a pole in the middle to keep it standing, and Arthur and Merlin were shoved inside, where their hands were bound behind their backs to the pole. Then they were left alone, although Arthur could hear the quiet conversation of two guards outside.   
“Merlin, get some sleep.”   
“I'm fine.”  
“Merlin-”  
“Really, couldn't sleep if I wanted to.”  
“Pain?”  
“I'm fine.”  
“Don't lie, Merlin.” Arthur sighed, resting his head against the pole behind him.  
“It hurts, but I'll live.”  
“Good. I'll get us out of here.”  
“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7! I'm afraid updates won't be as regular from this point on, however - life is a thing that requires effort. But I'll attempt to get them to you as quickly as I can. I'm debating switching to weekly, perhaps twice weekly.


	8. Chapter 8

Merlin groaned as he shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. There was very little he could do with his hands tied behind his back, but he still tried. Arthur was asleep, the dollophead. He told Merlin to get some sleep, and then did so himself not ten minutes later. It was a good thing Merlin was awake to listen for hints of Gwen's whereabouts or alert Arthur when something was about to happen.  
The warlock gasped sharply when he felt sharp pain in his side and warmth. The scab, which had held through all of the torment of before, had broken. He didn't need to bleed out right now, he needed to get his wits about him and get them out of here.  
He muttered at his side, hoping to use magic to stop the bleeding, but nothing happened. Somehow, the disappointment wasn't tainted by shock. He'd told Gwaine he'd heal himself, but that was very unlikely. Merlin's magic helped him, certainly, but healing had never been his strong suit. At least, not intentional healing. Apparently his subconscious loved to heal, according to Gaius. He probably wouldn't still be alive if not for that part of his brain that worked while asleep.  
Well. If he couldn't heal himself, he could at least get them out of these ropes. That was easy, and before two seconds had passed it was done. Arthur fell forward before jumping out of sleep, almost hitting his face on the ground. He lifted his hands up to his face to check his wrists in complete surprise before looking at Merlin.  
“Did you-?”  
“Sharp fingernails.”   
Arthur raised an eyebrow at Merlin before shaking his head. “It doesn't matter. We have to find Gwen.”  
Merlin nodded, but before either could move they heard a voice outside the tent. Without having to speak, the both took up their positions, hands behind their backs. Merlin wasn't surprised by the woman who walked inside, but apparently Arthur was.  
“Morgana?”  
“Arthur.” Morgana was looking the same as ever, with her black hair piled high and her black, hooded dress stained around the bottom by mud. Her eyes looked at Merlin and sparked with hatred. Merlin looked down. He deserved that. He'd tried to kill her, and despite it being for the good of Camelot, she hadn't asked for it. She hadn't.  
“What do you want, Morgana?” Arthur's voice sounded stronger, although Merlin knew he was still reeling. If Merlin knew, so did Morgana, so the boy wasn't sure what the point was, but he let Arthur retain his false sense of composure.  
“I ask for a sorcerer, and I get a greedy king instead.”  
“I don't know what sorcerer you're talking about-”  
“And I don't care, Arthur. I expected you to find him, not come rushing out yourself. Although you always were too hot-headed.”  
“Morgana, just let Gwen go, she didn't do anything-”  
“She did plenty. She married you, didn't she?”  
“Did you want to?”  
Morgana slapped Arthur, who let his face fall to the side but was careful to keep his upright position. Merlin was afraid he was going to try to fight her, and that would only end badly, but it seemed, at least at the moment, Arthur was keeping a cool head. Well, a lukewarm head.  
“Don't speak back to me, Arthur, not here.”  
Arthur held his tongue, which seemed miraculous.   
“I didn't believe it when they told me they'd found you. I had to see for myself, but I thought you couldn't have been stupid enough to come. And with only a wounded serving boy for company? That was too much. But here you are, and here,” Morgana had walked around to face Merlin. “Here is the wounded serving boy.” She knelt in front of Merlin, looking at the blood that was slowly soaking his shirt. “Very wounded, it would seem.”  
“Keep away from him, witch.” Arthur spat, and Merlin could hear the anger in his voice. Merlin knew why. It took only a few seconds for Morgana to begin prodding at the wound, and it took all of Merlin's concentration not to wriggle out of his fake bonds. His gasping breath was heavy, hard to take in, coming too quickly and yet not quickly enough as the pain erupted in his side. Oh damn her and her magic, she was poking him with it, increasing the pain with it. She was convinced that he deserved worse, he could see it in her eyes, and so she continued until she drew a scream from Merlin's lips. Arthur almost rose, but Merlin grabbed at his hands, reminding him to stay, please, even though he could hardly handle the pain that was tearing apart his side. The blood was pouring freely from it now, soaking the dirt beneath them, but it didn't seem to bother Morgana that she was dirtying her dress. Merlin's pain would always be worth the mud.   
He couldn't handle it. He knew his magic was dying to attack her, madly attempting to escape the confines of his body and blow her away. Self-preservation was a powerful motivator, but old habits kept it pushed down. She knew, she had to know, she'd demanded he be turned over-  
She stood, letting Merlin pant and try to hide tears. “I'll return once I decide what to do with you.” She said quietly, before she fled the tent. Merlin hurried to wipe the tears from his face before Arthur saw. That was the least of his problems, but he didn't want his friend to see his weakness.  
“Merlin, you should have let me-” Arthur stopped when he saw the blood on the ground, soaking Merlin. The anger in his face grew, and Merlin could see the veins pulsing at his temples as he struggled to keep it in check. It was a good thing he hadn't known before, or he would have blown their freedom.  
“I'm fine.” Merlin whispered.  
Arthur didn't argue. He pulled his shirt over his head and pressed it against the wound, watching Merlin's face contort in pain but not letting the pressure lessen. “Just stay with me, Merlin. We'll get out of here, I promise.”  
Merlin nodded, his face much paler than it had any right to be. “Just get it stopped, then we can go.” He tried to keep a physician's head about him, like Gaius would have. Ignore the pain, think about what needed to be done, do it. Don't be distracted by the fact that it was his pain, his blood. They could fix him up properly when they got back to Camelot.  
Merlin managed to stay quiet until the bleeding had lessened, and then Arthur began ripping apart bandages to tie around Merlin. It wouldn't take much, considering how much smaller Merlin was than Arthur, and indeed it went rather quickly, with Merlin occasionally coaching Arthur on the best way to do it. When it was finished, Arthur gingerly helped Merlin to his feet, and Merlin did his best to hide the pain it caused him. He knew he didn't do a good enough job when Arthur pulled Merlin's arm around his shoulders.  
“We'll go slowly.” Arthur muttered.  
“The guards.”   
“Oh. Yeah.” The king frowned as he stared at the entrance of the tent. Now was one of the moments that Merlin wished Arthur both knew about his magic and accepted it, because the warlock could make short work of the guards. But he didn't dare, and it probably wouldn't be smart to exhaust any more of his energy than absolutely necessary.  
“How sharp are your fingernails?” Arthur asked, and Merlin gave him half a smile, half a sneer.   
“Not sharp enough.”  
“Figured. Guess I'll do all the work myself.”  
Arthur helped Merlin lean against the pole, making sure he wouldn't fall, before he walked to the tent flaps. The guards were just outside, Merlin knew, but he wasn't sure how to-  
Arthur reached forward, grabbed both men, and pulled them into the tent. The first he knocked firmly on the head and he fell like a stone. The second took a bit more effort, but after a few minutes Arthur managed to knock him out with a solid punch to the face that made Arthur cringe. Merlin couldn't imagine what the other man would be feeling when he woke up.  
Arthur began stripping the first guard, pulling on his shirt first before adding the chain mail and pulling a helmet over his head.  
“How do I look?”  
“Like a bigger prat than usual.”  
“Shut up. You need to do the same.”  
“I wanted to run around in my blood soaked shirt.”  
“You're hilarious, Merlin. Come on, let me help you.”  
“I can't wear that.” Merlin muttered, glancing at the chain mail.  
“You'll have to.”  
“I'm not a brute like you, I can't-” He cut off as Arthur helped him remove his shirt, hissing in pain as it forced him to move his injured side. Arthur apologized quietly, helping Merlin pull it over his head. Merlin wanted to protest, he didn't need to be treated so daintily, but he knew it was necessary. He'd probably fall over if he had to do it himself, and he wasn't sure he'd be getting back up again.  
It was a hassle, having Arthur help him dress. He wondered why Arthur insisted Merlin help him, if it was this annoying, but he supposed that was the difference between growing up a commoner and being raised a prince.   
Arthur picked up the chain mail, and Merlin shook his head. “Arthur, I can't-”  
“Merlin, I swear I'll never make you do it again, but right now you have to.”  
“I can hardly stand up on my own, I can't-”  
“I'll help you. Just until we find Gwen and get out of here, alright?”  
Merlin didn't want to. He would already be dependent on Arthur, and this would just make it worse. But he allowed it to happen, because Arthur was determined and there was no persuading him otherwise. Merlin had learned over the years to just accept it and do the best he could.  
It was so heavy. Merlin immediately sagged under the weight. There was a good reason he'd never had any desire at all to become a knight, and this was most of it. He didn't have the build to haul around armor and swords, even if Arthur tried to make him in practice.  
Arthur wrapped Merlin's arm around his shoulders. “You can do this, Merlin, just lean on me. We'll get out of here, and I'll never make you wear chain mail again.”  
Merlin nodded, although he doubted it was true. Arthur was very good at helping his knights – and in this case, his manservant – get through strong and in one piece. He kept morale up, and more often than not, they wouldn't make it through without. Merlin held onto Arthur's words like a life raft, even if he knew he couldn't necessarily trust them. He held tightly onto Arthur's shoulder as they pushed their way out of the tent.  
Outside, it was quiet; apparently they had no plans to move anytime soon, because small fires throughout the camp were surrounded by men – and a few women – laughing and drinking. It would have been pleasant, if not for the fear that they would be caught and the pain of a wound still trickling blood. No one seemed to be on alert, no one seemed to be keeping watch, although Merlin suspected there was some kind of magical alarm system in place. Either that, or they knew that Arthur wasn't going to send an army until he absolutely had to.  
Arthur helped Merlin walk along, smiling easily at the men they passed that waved or nodded. They definitely didn't expect any kind of attack, not as calm and easy-going as they were. It was that much better for Merlin and Arthur. At least, until someone realized they had disappeared. Merlin kept waiting to hear yelling, or for someone to realize that they didn't belong. Or worse, for Morgana to find them. She wouldn't be kind, there was no doubt about that. She would use her magic and she would hurt them both, and Merlin may be forced to expose his own magic to stop her.  
“You there.” Merlin froze, feeling his knees almost give out as he panicked. Arthur gripped his waist more firmly to keep him upright, bearing most of his weight.   
“Yes?” Arthur asked.  
A man walked around them and stared at Merlin, a frown on his face. “Is he alright?”  
“He's feeling ill. We were supposed to be going to the prisoner queen, but I thought I'd drop him off first.”  
“The queen, hmm? What are they going to do?”  
“Morgana expects the sorcerer to be here soon. She wants to be prepared.”  
The man frowned. He had long, dark brown hair and sparkling blue eyes over a full beard, and he had thick arms with a lithe frame. “How does she know?”  
“How does anyone know? Magic.”  
“Magic.” The man said the word like a curse. “I don't like Camelot, but these magic users... they give me the creeps. Still, if it helps us tear down Camelot, I'm willing to help them out.”  
“I understand completely.” Arthur's voice was a little strained, but the other man seemed to accept it as anger towards the kingdom instead of anger towards those words.  
“Yeah. Anyway, you're going the opposite direction of the queen, I can help the kid to his tent.”  
“No, I'd like to do it. He's my little brother, you know, I want to make sure he's fine before I leave him.”  
“Ah yes, family's important. Well, best of luck. That woman's a ball of fire.”  
“Sure is. Thanks. Have a good night.”  
“You too.” He gave Arthur a half salute as he continued on his way, going ahead of them. As soon as he turned a corner, Arthur turned them around and they began heading back.  
“He was awfully friendly for the enemy.” Merlin said quietly.   
“Awful friendly for a man who wants me dead.” Arthur muttered back. Merlin chuckled quietly, but regretted it almost instantly.   
“Don't laugh, Merlin, he wants me dead. That should upset you.”  
“Oh, it does. Very much.”  
“I'd hit you if you weren't half-dead.”  
“I'm not half-dead. Just... slightly less than alive.”  
“Yeah, well, make sure you stay that way. I'm not ready to replace you.”  
“Are you getting sentimental?”  
“Absolutely not. It's just a pain in my royal arse.”  
“Right.” Merlin stumbled as he answered, and Arthur tightened his grip yet again.  
“Come on, Merlin. Just until we find Gwen, then we can steal some horses and go home.”  
Merlin nodded. They continued on in silence, Arthur using the same excuse as before when they were asked. In that way he found he could indirectly ask directions, and before long they were standing in around the corner from the tent that, in theory, held the Queen of Camelot.  
Arthur took a deep breath, pausing in his charge to Gwen. Merlin knew he was afraid of what he'd find inside, afraid that his wife was worse off than they'd been lead to believe.  
“She's fine.” Merlin muttered, hoping to calm Arthur a bit.  
“She will be.” Arthur answered. “Do you think you can stand on your own for a while?”  
“So long as it's not running after you.” Merlin answered. Arthur rolled his eyes, Merlin knew that without looking. Slowly, Arthur helped him toward what he assumed was supposed to be a hitching post for horses, although it was empty, and let Merlin grab it before extricating himself from the boy. From here, Merlin could see where the two guards were standing in front of the tent. Then he strutted forward, for all the world looking as if he belonged, and spoke quietly with the guards. They nodded, seeming to believe his statement, before letting Arthur inside.  
It took an abnormal amount of time for Arthur to come back out. He wasn't sure if the knots were beyond the king's abilities, if things were worse than even Merlin wanted to believe, or if they were having some sort of mushy reunion, but he really hoped they would get over it soon. He was feeling nervous, standing in the open, completely defenseless and on his own. He knew he could use magic, but he wasn't sure how much before he grew too exhausted. He wasn't exactly willing to find out, either.  
Too much time passed, in Merlin's opinion, before Arthur came out with Gwen. She walked in front of him, her arms behind her back and her head low as she pretended to be Arthur's prisoner. She seemed to be walking just fine, Merlin was pleased to find, and when Arthur muttered something to the guards they nodded and chuckled quietly. As soon as Arthur turned toward Merlin, he could tell that the king was disgusted by what he'd just said, but if it got them all out safely it was worth it.   
Arthur reached Merlin and frowned.   
“Didn't think this part out, did you?” Merlin asked quietly. Gwen looked at him when he spoke, and he could see the tears in her eyes out of relief. She looked scared, but with Arthur at her back she seemed confident. He had that effect on people.  
“I'm going one step at a time.” Arthur responded.   
“Go find horses, get her out of here first.” Merlin answered quietly. “Come back for me.”  
“Merlin, I'm not leaving you behind-”  
“Do you have a better idea?”  
Arthur frowned at him, and Merlin raised his eyebrows.  
“No, Merlin.” Gwen said quietly, begging him with her wide brown eyes.   
Merlin didn't look at her, couldn't look at her. He stared at Arthur. “Once you have horses, you can send Gwen ahead and come back for me. Then we all make it out of here alive.”  
“Merlin, I don't like this.” Arthur held Merlin's gaze, attempting to force some other idea to appear, but nothing happened. “I'll be back as soon as I can.”  
“Good. Go fast.” Merlin knew his knuckles must be white from gripping the post, but he could make it. If all else failed, he could sit down and pretend to be drunk. Hopefully no one would recognize him.  
“Stay right here.”  
Merlin nodded. He watched as Arthur left with Gwen, attempting to walk at a normal pace but struggling to keep himself calm. Merlin knew. The warlock watched until they turned a corner, and even then stared at the spot where they'd disappeared. He could do this. All he had to do was convince people that he belonged, and he was fairly good at doing that. After all, he'd been pretending to be someone he wasn't for most of his life. It shouldn't be that hard.  
He watched as people passed him, going this way and that. They were all regular people, and it was hard to imagine them marching on Camelot, intent to kill Arthur. Sure, the king was a pain sometimes, but he was honorable and courageous and did what he thought was best for everyone. Yes, he hated magic. But that wasn't entirely unjustified. Not only had it been taught to him by his father, his role model, but the only times Arthur had seen magic openly used was for evil. After all, the people with good intent were too afraid of getting burned alive to show it, and the bad ones assumed they wouldn't get caught.   
Someday, magic would be accepted in Camelot. He had to believe that, because otherwise there was no point. No, that wasn't true. Arthur was a good man, and he was running a good kingdom. Even without freedom for magic users, he would still stay in Camelot. He'd grown too close to the prat to do anything else.  
Not that he'd ever admit that, of course. He'd never hear the end of it if he did.  
“Merlin.” A voice purred, pulling the warlock from his thoughts. Shivers fell down his spine as he recognized the voice. “What a surprise to find you here, in my guards' uniform.”  
Merlin tried to spin, to unleash some kind of magic on the woman who was threatening Camelot, but before he could see Morgana he felt himself flying backwards. He landed to a sharp pain in his head and blackness soon after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I enjoy writing this much more than doing real life, so I finished another chapter. Enjoy!


	9. Chapter 9

“Arthur, we can't leave him-”  
“We're not.”  
“We are, he's still back there, alone, and Morgana-”  
“I know. But... he'll be fine.”  
Arthur could see the horses. Five of them, lazily grazing just outside the short wall. He just had to get Gwen moving on one and take two back inside. Merlin would somehow get on his horse and they could charge after Gwen, leaving this behind them. Merlin could get the help he desperately needed, Gwen would be safe, and they could figure out how to take Morgana and her army out. It wouldn't be normal, but everyone he loved would be safe, for a while, and in one place.  
Arthur cut the ropes from Gwen's wrists quickly with a knife he'd picked off of one of their guards, then untied a black horse on the end. Gwen mounted the horse quickly, but she didn't leave.   
“Guinevere, please. Trust me.” Arthur said quietly. “We'll catch up with you in no time. I just need to know you're safe.”  
Gwen stared at her husband long and hard, eventually nodding. “Fine. But you bring him back, do you hear me?”  
“Of course.”   
Arthur sighed in relief when she pushed her horse into a run, heading away from the camp and toward Camelot. He watched her go for only a few seconds, hair flying, before he mounted a horse and, with the second's reigns tied to his saddle, took off into the camp, heading toward Merlin. They were so close. They could do it.  
He reached the spot he'd left Merlin with no difficulty, except the odd cry of rage as he almost trampled someone. No one tried to stop him, no one tried to ask what he was doing. He must have looked like he was on a mission, but that mission came to an abrupt halt when Merlin was no where to be seen.  
He jumped to the ground and walked quickly to where he'd last seen Merlin, but there was no sign of the boy there anymore. Arthur had hoped for some sort of sign, either a note that Merlin had left or signs of a scuffle, something... but there was nothing. He stayed much too long, looking around the area even though he knew... somehow, he knew that Merlin wasn't going to be there. Something had gone terribly wrong, and Merlin was probably in trouble. For the second time, Merlin was in trouble because Arthur hadn't stayed close.   
He couldn't stay here. Either he went after Gwen and returned to Camelot, or he stayed here and tried to find his friend. But he had no idea how to find the boy, and Gwen would come back if he didn't find her. He couldn't leave Camelot defenseless.   
He stood for a moment longer. He knew what decision he had to make. He couldn't put all of the people of Camelot at risk for one boy, and Merlin would say the same. He would hate hearing it, but it was the truth. Especially right now, when they were about to get sucked into a war that couldn't end well, no matter who won.  
It was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do, mounting his horse and following Gwen. He kept hoping to see Merlin pop up somewhere with a smart remark, chastise the king for almost leaving him behind. But nothing happened as Arthur made it past the small wall around the camp and continued after his wife, desperately hoping that Merlin was fine and would remain so until he could do something about it.  
Gwen hadn't gone far before she stopped to wait for Arthur, and her face fell when she saw the second horse remained riderless.   
“Merlin-?”  
“He was gone.” Arthur didn't say anymore, and didn't slow his horse. Gwen was forced to push her horse to catch him again, but she didn't say anything once she reached him. She knew better than to try to make small talk when Merlin was in trouble. Not that she wanted to, anyway.  
They didn't stop to rest on their way to Camelot, so they made it quickly, even when they let the horses' pace slow to keep them going. Arthur leapt from his horse as soon as they entered the courtyard, letting someone else deal with the sweating animal as he pushed his way past knights who expressed concern. Gwen could explain what had happened. He had other things he had to deal with. He had to deal with other things, to keep his mind from straying back to the friend he'd left with Morgana.   
Gwaine came out of nowhere, anger written all over his face, and pushed Arthur up against a wall. Arthur let it happen. He deserved it.  
“Where is Merlin?” The knight demanded, his hand clenched in Arthur's shirt.  
“Clearly he isn't here.”  
“What you – you left him?” Arthur hadn't thought Gwaine's face could turn any more red than it was, but he was wrong.   
“I didn't leave him, he was... Morgana, she-” Arthur didn't know how to answer honestly. He'd had to leave, because Morgana had taken Merlin and there was nothing he could do, not against that, but he should have. He wished he could have.  
“Morgana?” Gwaine loosened his hold on Arthur.   
“Yes. It seems she's part of this mess.”  
“You left him there with Morgana?” Gwaine's anger seemed to overcome the mild shock at the name and now was raging all the hotter.   
“It's not like I wanted to!” Arthur's anger flared to match. “I wanted to tear that camp down and find him, but it would have gotten me killed.”  
“Maybe you should have.”  
“Gotten myself killed for Merlin? What would that have accomplished?”  
They glared at each other for a while longer, both breathing heavier than the situation warranted and neither willing to back down.   
“Look, Gwaine.” Arthur tried to make his voice calm. “We're going to get him back. We will.” He said firmer when Gwaine gave him a disbelieving look. “But I can't exactly... Morgana has magic, and there's very little I could do to stop her, alright?” It pained him to make that admission. He hated weakness, he hated that he was weak, and he hated that his weakness had been the cause of Merlin's disappearance. He should have been better, stronger, smarter.   
“You shouldn't have let him go in the first place.” Gwaine muttered, but he seemed to have softened.  
“I know that now.” Arthur said quietly.   
“Good.” Gwaine backed up, letting Arthur smooth out his clothes. “When are we going to get him?”  
Arthur ran a hand through his hair. “I don't know. As soon as I come up with a plan.”  
“Not soon enough.”  
“Then-” Arthur cut off the anger. He knew what Gwaine was feeling. He would be feeling the same way, if their positions were switched. “I don't know what else to do right now, Gwaine. If you come up with a better plan, feel free to tell me.”  
“I will.” He was about to leave, but he stopped suddenly. “Elyan wanted to see you as soon as you got back.”  
“He's here?”  
“He stumbled in a few hours after you left, ranting about Gwen being kidnapped. Apparently his horse ran off and he had to walk back.”  
“Do you know what about?”  
“No. He's with Gaius, probably. He was pretty weak.” Gwaine stalked away, still seething. Arthur wanted to yell after him, tell him to straighten up and change his attitude, but he couldn't. Not when he knew it was only fear for Merlin that motivated him.  
He began on his way to Gaius, to see what Elyan needed and be sure his knight was alright. He felt guilty that he'd forgotten about the man, with the news of the ransom for Gwen's life.   
He was halfway there when it hit him. Merlin wouldn't be there, because he'd left the boy. He felt physically weak suddenly, falling against the wall in an attempt to keep from falling face first on the stone floor. Merlin's absence was a physical pain, one that he wasn't sure how to deal with. He'd had to, occasionally, but never... it had been his fault before, he'd been the cause, but he'd never been so thoroughly responsible.   
It took several gasping breaths before he started to regain some measure of composure. His face was damp; he didn't remember that happening. He wiped a sleeve across his face and tried to pick himself up, but instead of doing so his body slid to the floor. He'd done this. On top of everything else that was going on, he'd lost Merlin. He didn't know how to get the boy back, didn't know if it was even possible. He just knew that he had to, somehow, because he couldn't feel like this for the rest of his life, he couldn't.  
It took the king a long time to pull himself up from the floor, and longer before he felt comfortable walking into Gaius chambers. Gaius wouldn't know yet. Arthur didn't want to see the disappointed look on the physician's face when he learned that his ward had been left behind by the man who was supposed to protect him. But it would be wrong to let someone else tell him, and it was his responsibility. He was at fault, he had to deal with it.  
He knocked hesitantly, and heard Gaius' typically friendly call of “Come in!” Arthur took a deep breath before he did so.  
“Sire, what can I do for you?” He asked, mixing something at the table. Elyan was sitting across from him, his sword arm in a sling and scrapes across his face. He glanced up at Arthur with concerned eyes.  
“Arthur.” He hurried to stand, but Arthur shook his head before the knight could. He'd never really understood the need to bow because he entered a room, and he definitely didn't understand it from someone who was injured or ill.  
“Gwaine told me you wanted to speak with me?” Arthur tried to sound kingly, and had absolutely no clue if he was successful. Fortunately, the present company would let him get away with not.  
“Gwen, is she-?”  
“She's fine. She'll be around to see Gaius later, I'm sure. I believe she wanted to get some rest.”  
Elyan visibly relaxed, leaning against the back of his chair and allowing his shoulders to slump. “Good. When they took her, I thought... It doesn't matter, if she's safe now. Thank you, Arthur.”  
“Of course. Was there anything else?”  
“They wanted a sorcerer for her, did you...?”  
“No. We...” Arthur felt weird talking about Merlin so casually. “We went as soon as we heard. I didn't want to waste time searching for a sorcerer.”  
“They said it was someone we know.” Elyan said quietly.   
“Did they give you a name?”  
“No. But I had a really bad feeling about it.”  
“I'm sure it was just to throw us off our guard. We can't start questioning everyone's motives now, not with the war so close.” And just like that, Arthur had decided. If there was a sorcerer in his kingdom, and he was an enemy of Camelot's enemy, there was no reason to worry overly until the war was finished. No sorcerer would sabotage the army that was, in effect, keeping him safe.  
“Yes sire.” Elyan seemed to completely trust Arthur's decision, and a heavy silence fell over the three.  
“Gaius, I need to speak with you. Privately.”  
Elyan nodded and stood as Gaius gave Arthur a small frown.   
“What about, sire?”   
Arthur waited until Elyan had closed the door behind him before taking the knight's seat. “Merlin didn't come back with us.”  
“I... I'm not sure I understand.”  
“Morgana is leading this army, and I'm afraid... she must have got him while I was helping Gwen escape. I tried to find him, Gaius, I did, but by the time I got back to him there was no sign, absolutely nothing, and against Morgana...” He was staring hard at the worn edge of the table, forcing himself to retain some semblance of control. “I didn't know what I could do for him, and I couldn't risk Camelot to spend time looking for him. I'm sorry, Gaius, I know-”  
Arthur stopped as he felt hands on his shoulders. “I understand, Arthur.” The words were heavy, but strong. “I'm sure you did everything you could. Merlin's strong. He'll be fine.” Those words sounded as though they were attempting to convince both men in the room. Arthur leaned forward, putting his head in his hands.  
“I failed him. As soon as I figure out how, I'll find him, I'll get him back home. But what if...?”  
“He'll be fine, Arthur. He'll know you're coming back.”  
“I told him to wait for me, and he did, and that's why-”  
“Don't let guilt overwhelm you, Arthur. You need a good strong head on your shoulders if you're to bring him home again.”  
“You're right.” Arthur stood, shaking off the cloud of despair that had begun to hang a little too heavily above his head. “I'll get him back, Gaius. Morgana won't hurt him.” Anymore than she already has.  
Arthur ignored that corner of his brain. He would deal with that later. His first goal was to get Merlin back in one piece, alive, breathing and heart beating.  
It was several hours later when Arthur finally made it to his bedchambers, feeling wearier than he thought possible. He'd spoken with Leon about the current state of things, brainstormed with Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan about possible ways to get Merlin home, and asked for a quiet inquiry into the identity of the sorcerer from some of his most trusted knights. He wasn't about to turn the man over to Morgana, and he didn't want to spend too much time and effort searching for him when there were other things to be done. But, Arthur hoped, the man would know why Morgana wanted him so badly, and how they could use that to their advantage. He wasn't sure what to do with the sorcerer after the fact, but he'd deal with that when the time came.  
He fell on his bed, feeling his muscles protest the hours he'd spent riding, running around the castle, tied to a pole, getting beat on. Gwen wasn't around. Arthur wondered idly if she was angry at him, if she would find a different place to spend the night. He wouldn't blame her. So many people had told him no when it came to Merlin, and he had always argued yes. And then Merlin got hurt. There were a fair number of people who had every right to hate him, Merlin included. He supposed he'd hear it in sly jokes and muttered comments as soon as Merlin was back.  
Arthur knew he should get up and change out of his dirty, grimy clothes. He should probably take a bath as well, or Gwen would be angry at him for dirtying their bed. But without Merlin to demand he do it, it didn't really seem all that important. Besides, he was really tired. He didn't feel like getting up again.  
“Sire, I've prepared the bath for you.”   
Arthur almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the voice. He'd thought he was alone in his room.   
“George?” Arthur sputtered, sitting up and seeing the bland servant standing by the door, a towel over his arm. He was the last person Arthur wanted to see at that moment. Well, except for Morgana, anyway. The servant was so... boring, such a pushover and a perfectionist and... basically the ideal servant, for just about anyone except Arthur. He supposed he should be grateful that someone had thought to alert George that Arthur would be needing assistance, and that the man had readied a bath without being told five times.   
“Yes sire. I was informed that you'd be needing a replacement for... Merlin.” Oh, George had feelings about Merlin, to be sure. Arthur assumed he wasn't at all fond of the king's manservant, in part because he didn't fit the stereotypical role, but also because he consistently pushed George back out of what was, for some, considered a prestigious position.   
“Not a replacement.” Arthur's voice was a little hard. “You're only here until Merlin returns, is that understood?”  
“Of course, sire.” George gave Arthur a slight bow. Arthur sighed. This man was so boring.  
Arthur let George help him undress before sinking into the tub, sighing as it instantly helped him relax some tight muscles. George disappeared to a corner where Arthur couldn't see him, but the king knew as soon as he moved the servant would be right beside him, offering a towel and clothes. He supposed it was nice, in theory, to have his needs anticipated and orders followed without hesitation or snark. In theory. But the room was eerily silent as he sat in the warm water.  
The door opened, and Arthur was too lazy to peak around the edge of the changing screen to see who it was.   
“Oh, George. I didn't realize you were here.” Gwen's voice. So she planned on spending the night with her failure of a husband, then. Arthur wasn't sure if he was relieved or nervous.  
“I apologize, your highness.” Arthur could just see the bow in his mind and rolled his eyes. Perhaps Merlin had ruined him for real servants, but this was just ridiculous.  
“Has Arthur come back yet?”   
“He's in the bath, your highness.”  
“Thank you George, you may go.”  
“As you wish.” There was probably another bow there, and then Arthur heard the door open and close. He heard Gwen's feet as she walked across the stone floor, coming closer to him until her head peeked around the screen.  
“How are you?” She asked quietly.  
“Tired.”  
“Me too.”  
She came around the screen and put her hands on his shoulders, gently massaging. Arthur sighed and leaned into her touch. “I'm sorry.”  
“Why are you sorry?” Arthur asked, frowning even though she couldn't see it.  
“You did what you thought was best. I should have been there for you, but I avoided you instead. It wasn't your fault.”  
“No, Gwen, it was. I should have done better. I will do better. I'll get him back. I... I'm sorry that he got... but not that you're safe. I had to make sure you were safe, Gwen.”  
“I know.”  
“I should have saved him, but at least...” Arthur sighed heavily.   
“He'll be fine. He always is.”  
“Yes. He has to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be Merlin-centric, and it will be... I wanted to say fun, but that's definitely not the word. Hope you enjoyed!


	10. Chapter 10

The dripping sound was too annoying. Merlin frowned and slowly opened his eyes, feeling the dull throbbing in the back of his head. He recognized the fabric in front of him immediately, just like he recognized the burning pain of wrists tied too tightly with rope behind his back. He seemed to be in the same tent as before, except this time he was alone. It was too quiet without Arthur giving him false assurances that they'd both be fine, they'd get out fine, they'd get to Camelot fine. And right then, he really wished he had that.

The dripping continued. Merlin stopped thinking for a moment to listen. Rain. It was raining outside. Ah, that was why the ground was damp. And why he was shivering.

He knew the cold had to be bad for him, with his blood loss. Of course, Morgana wouldn't care overly about that. Merlin's pain was her pleasure.

Merlin pressed his head against the wooden post behind him, wishing he could lay on a real bed. He hadn't realized how sore he was until he was forced to sit with his hands tied behind his back. He'd have to forget it, soon enough, because he was sure Morgana wouldn't leave him alone for long. She'd at least be wanting to know what Arthur's plans were, if not torture him into telling her about the sorcerer. He'd claim ignorance on both counts, they both knew, and she would try to torture the information out of him. He knew the drill. He liked to think he was mentally prepared for it. He supposed he'd find out soon enough if that was true.

His side didn't seem to be bothering him as much anymore. Either the tight bandage Arthur had helped him with was doing a fantastic job, or he was too numb to feel it anymore. Either way, he was glad he didn't have to add that to his list of pains, because he knew he'd have more to deal with soon.

He sat alone for a lot longer than he thought he would: he'd assumed Morgana would want to be there as soon as he woke, if not shortly after, to gloat about her success and begin her interrogation. He could hear talking outside, but he assumed there would be more guards this time... or maybe not. Arthur wasn't here, and Merlin's first instinct would be to assume that Arthur had set them free somehow.

Unless Morgana knew about his magic. But that would pose a lot bigger problem than a few extra guards.

Merlin was too exhausted to use magic at this point. He needed good rest, not unconsciousness from something hard to the head. But he wasn't likely to get that. He would probably be able to build up enough strength without, he told himself. He'd just have to last a little while, then find a moment when he could get out. He was a warlock, after all. Emrys. He could do it. He had to.

Ah. He heard Morgana's voice outside, muttering to her guards about something or other. Probably not to come in if they heard screaming. Of course, at this point they were probably used to that. Merlin took several deep breaths in preparation before she walked into the tent, in all her High Priestess glory.

“Woke up, have you?” She asked, that sneer on her face that Merlin had grown accustomed to seeing.

“Well, I couldn't sleep with the chatter from your guards. You should really talk to them about that-” He stopped speaking as she slapped him.

“This isn't Camelot, Merlin. You won't get away with it here.”

“I don't get away with it there.” Another slap. Merlin was torn between wishing he wasn't such a smart ass and enjoying the aggravation on Morgana's face. He needed something to keep him entertained; he wouldn't find anything funny in a matter of minutes, he was sure.

The pain he felt next was the worst he had ever felt. He pressed his lips tightly together even though every sense he had begged him to scream, begged to let go of some of the pressure he was feeling, but he wouldn't. He couldn't. That would be giving up, letting Morgana win. And he felt bad for the woman, but he'd never, _ever_ let her win.

The pain stopped for a moment, just enough time to see the glee in Morgana's gold eyes before it started again. The scream built in his throat, pleading, but he kept telling it no. No. _No._ If he was able to keep from revealing his magic everyday he had been with Arthur, he could keep a scream in. He could do it. He had to do it. Arthur would be disappointed if he screamed like a girl under a little torture.

He'd done it once, though, when Arthur actually had been there, and the king hadn't made any rude comments about it. Maybe he'd understand.

Before Merlin could let the realization impact him, the pain stopped again. He knew he was panting for breath, and there was nothing he could do about that. He stared at the floor to compose himself before he looked up at Morgana.

She frowned at him. “Why do you try so hard?”

Merlin didn't answer. He couldn't. His body was trembling, and he was afraid he'd bite off his own tongue if he took a moment to unclench his jaw.

“You don't have a leash on now. Arthur isn't here to yank it when you step out of line.” She watched Merlin curiously, kneeling so her face was even with his. She casually wiped at a trail of blood dripping from Merlin's nose, which they boy hadn't realized was there. “Has he been teaching you to be strong? Or are you just too afraid of letting him down, like everyone else? Afraid he won't love you in the same way if he knows you're not like him?”

Merlin tensed as she leaned closer to him. She knew. She knew she knew she knew she _knew._

“You'll never be like him, Merlin. He's too full of himself. I thought you'd have realized that by now. He's not worth your time.”

Merlin stared straight into her eyes, daring her to say something more.

“He's better off dead.”

Merlin strained against the ropes as he spat, “He's a great king.”

“A great king who leaves his manservant behind in favor of his queen.”

“I told him to.”

Morgana stared at him for a moment before she began laughing, a loud, obnoxious laugh that she would have found undignified before she started running with the wrong crowd.

“ _You_ told him to? Does your loyalty to him know no bounds?”

“You wouldn't understand loyalty, Morgana.”

“I know loyalty, Merlin. I haven't poisoned a friend.”

Merlin didn't have anything to say to that. She nodded once and stood.

“It was fortunate that you sent your friends away and stayed behind, Merlin. I've missed you.” The words rang ominous even after Morgana stormed out of the tent, her rage palpable.

Merlin waited, quietly, attempting to control the tremors that still rocked through him, like aftershocks of the pain.

He dozed off once the pain was a memory. It wasn't a good rest, and it wasn't long, but it was something.

His wrists were beyond sore now. They'd been rubbed raw during Morgana's last visit, and he knew they wouldn't look pretty when he escaped. His side was... surprisingly, it hurt less than his wrists. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

He heard her outside, talking quietly with someone. Merlin didn't recognize the voice, but obviously it was someone Morgana cared about, not just one of her men.

“He's keeping quiet.”

“Have you used your leverage?” It was a man's voice, deep.

“Arthur won't start a manhunt to save Merlin. He wouldn't do it for his own wife.”

“But we need to find him. You said-”

“Yes. Emrys is my doom, but if he's such a great warlock, Arthur would be powerless. He would be useless.”

Merlin tensed as he heard his druid name being used. There was a part of him that was always afraid of being discovered when he heard that name used. But she must not know, not if she was still searching for Emrys. Merlin was extremely glad he hadn't broken and used his magic before. Then he might be in more danger than he was now.

“Then what do we do?”

“Merlin must have some idea. He's rather popular, as servants go.”

“So are you going to-?”

“You do it. I don't want to lose control and kill him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now go. Find me when you're finished.”

“Yes ma'am.”

Merlin tried not to look afraid when the man in question walked into the tent and stared at him for a solid minute. He couldn't help the small squirm as time went on, but he was sure it wouldn't matter soon enough. After all, it couldn't be anything pleasant coming.

There was no introduction, even though Merlin had half-expected one. The man didn't look overly intelligent: big and bulky, an impressive amount of muscle beneath a strong chin and a heavy brow. His thick, curly black hair was tied low at his neck, and Merlin assumed it hadn't been brushed out for a good long while.

The man didn't give Merlin the same once over that he received. He pulled a knife out of a sheath on his belt and knelt in front of Merlin.

“You know Emrys?” He asked quietly. Merlin only shook his head in response, but the man didn't like the silence. He pulled a scream from Merlin as he dragged the knife along the boy's right arm, drawing blood in streams.

“Emrys.”

“I don't know him.” Merlin lied through his teeth as he cringed away from the blade. It didn't seem to matter; he received another long cut on the same arm. Merlin was able to keep the tears from falling down his face, but that meant there was no way he could keep his voice in. He wondered, somewhere in the back of his mind, if Morgana was standing just outside, listening. It was that thought that cut off the scream even as the knife dragged across his chest. This carried on for several hours, although the cuts became less frequent in favor of salting the wounds. Merlin knew he couldn't keep quiet, but he tried. It was probably the only thing that kept him sane through the ordeal, and it was only when the man gave up and left that he allowed the tears to roll down his face in heavy drops as he panted. But each pant hurt so badly that more tears made their way onto the wounds that couldn't feel the addition of more salt.

He fell asleep after the tears had dried up, exhaustion granting him a much deeper sleep than the quick rest he'd had before.

_Merlin crept quietly through the hallways of Camelot. He had to stay hidden. He couldn't remember why, or who from. He knew that he needed to find Arthur, though. That was the number one priority, find Arthur and tell him... something. He didn't know what. He assumed he'd remember once he found the king. He was glad he was so familiar with these halls, with the way they turned and the way his footsteps echoed through them. They were eerily empty. Usually they buzzed with servants running to complete tasks and knights on their way to do important... knight... stuff. Merlin didn't interest himself with their affairs. Looking after Arthur was a full time job._

_He was only a few turns from Arthur's rooms when he heard Morgana's voice. She shouldn't be there, she had left... she wanted Arthur dead. At least, that's what she said. Her presence in the castle could only mean disaster. Pain flashed through Merlin, but died away with no trace of mark on his body._

_The warlock crept forward quietly, listening to the voices. Morgana would ask questions, make statements, but there was never any reply. Merlin frowned. She wasn't crazy. She was bent on revenge, and often that made her seem less than sane, but she didn't talk to imaginary people._

_Merlin glanced around the corner to see Morgana staring at him. She smiled and began to speak words of the Old Religion, but Merlin threw her away before she could finish. She hit the wall and disappeared entirely._

_Merlin was pleased with himself, but also wary. If Morgana was in the castle, there were bound to be other evils lurking the halls._

_Another corner and he heard another voice. It was the man, his deep voice echoing against the stone walls._

_Merlin stumbled backwards, feeling his breath catch as pain broke out over his body. He looked at his arm and saw the blood, the injuries beneath. Then they burned, and Merlin fell to his knees. He bit his tongue, afraid of alerting the man of his presence. It never subsided completely, but he was finally able to move again. He limped forward, raised his hand, and turned the corner. Immediately he threw the man out of his way, his eyes flashing gold. The man disappeared into nothing, and Merlin hurried to Arthur's door._

_It took a lot of work to push the door open. He didn't remember it being this difficult – it was probably something that he should have fixed. Whatever the case, he finally managed to push it open, falling inside the door. He was leaving blood on the stone. He wished he wasn't: he didn't want to have to clean it up later. But there was nothing for it, and he looked around the room until his eyes fell on Arthur. The king was sleeping, the lazy prat. Merlin hobbled over, feeling weaker and weaker with every step but determined that he would speak with his king, his friend._

“ _Arthur.” He muttered, reaching forward. He gently pushed at Arthur' s shoulder, shaking him, but he didn't move. “Arthur, please. Please, you have to wake up.” He pushed harder, but it was so hard, and he just wanted to sleep. He recognized that as a bad thing, from so many conversations with Gaius. Then it was even more necessary to wake Arthur, to tell him-_

“ _Merlin, what-?” Arthur asked groggily, rolling away from his manservant. Then he froze, sat up straight, and stared at the boy. “Merlin! What are you-”_

“ _Arthur, please, help-” Merlin collapsed. He hadn't told Arthur, but he hadn't managed to get it out before his body caught up with him. It hurt so much. Arthur was at his side suddenly, his hands firm on Merlin's thin shoulder._

“ _Merlin, don't do this. Just wait a little while longer, hold on, you're_ strong _.” Arthur was as close to pleading as he ever got, and Merlin smiled to himself._

_Ah. That was what he had to tell Arthur._

_He was dying._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was ridiculously difficult for me to write, which is, coincidentally, why it's both taken a few days longer than planned to get up and why it's shorter than the others have been. But I hope you enjoy it, and thanks for the kinds words, especially Shivs - that was a nice note. I'm glad you approve! Thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

_Arthur woke suddenly to Merlin's voice and a slight shaking in his shoulder. He muttered something and rolled over, annoyed. It was still dark outside, there was no reason for Merlin to be waking him up. But the persistence didn't stop, and Arthur was growing more and more annoyed. Didn't the idiot understand, he didn't want to get up just yet-_

_Wait. Merlin. Merlin was there. He sat bolt upright and stared at his manservant, wondering how he had gotten back. “Merlin! What are you-?”_

“ _Arthur, please, help-” Arthur watched helplessly as Merlin fell to the floor. Arthur saw all the cuts, the blood dripping onto his floor. That didn't matter. Merlin. Merlin was gasping for breath, but it was obviously too hard, it shouldn't be so hard-_

“ _Merlin, don't do this.” Arthur pleaded. “Just wait a little longer, hold on, you're_ strong.” _He didn't care that he was begging, this couldn't be happening. Merlin couldn't die on him, he wouldn't allow it._

_Merlin had a small smile on his face, but it fell away quickly as Merlin lost all consciousness, No. No no no no_ no _._

“ _Help!” Arthur screamed, pulling Merlin onto his lap as he lost all of his kingly manner and became merely the man who was losing his best friend._

  
  


“Merlin!” Arthur woke as he screamed the name and sat straight up, sweat dripping from his forehead and tears dripping from his eyes. He gasped for breath as he came into wakefulness, Gwen's voice at his ear and her hands on his shoulders becoming more real than Merlin in his arms. No no no no no, he wanted Merlin back, he needed-

“Arthur, it's fine, it was just a nightmare.” Gwen's voice tried to soothe him, but there was nothing she could do. Arthur threw the blankets off of himself and stood, running his hand through his hair over and over as he walked to the door.

“Arthur, you're... if you're going out, you had better change. Let me help you.”

Arthur paused. He didn't want to wait. He needed to leave, to do something, to help Merlin. Finally, he turned to Gwen. She was right. She was already holding a change of clothes for him, standing by the wardrobe. Arthur was about to walk to her when his eyes roamed back to the bed and where Merlin had been laying.

He froze for only a moment before he hurried to kneel next to the spot. There was just one spot of blood on the floor, sitting on the stone like a reminder. Merlin needed him. Merlin was dying, he didn't have long, Arthur had to do _something_.

He didn't listen to Gwen's cries of indecency as he turned and left his chambers, making his way toward the one man he knew would do whatever it took. He couldn't leave, he knew that. The army had begun moving, slowly but surely, and there was too much he had to do here to go to Merlin's aid. He hated that, hated that he couldn't leave to go save the one man that had always believed in him.

Arthur pounded on the door. “Gwaine, open up.” He kept hitting the door, not listening for Gwaine's answering “Go away,” as the knight woke. He only stopped when the door suddenly opened, and then he pushed past Gwaine and made his way inside. He began working on pacing a hole into Gwaine's floor as the knight stared at him.

“What do you want, princess?” Gwaine asked, rubbing a hand across his face as he watched Arthur pace. “Do you know what time it is?”

“I know you just got back from the tavern an hour ago, but you're still sober because for once drinking didn't feel right.”

“Well... with Merlin-”

“I need you to get him back.”

Gwaine stared at Arthur for a moment, before shaking his head. “You told me-”

“It doesn't matter what I told you, I'm telling you now that you are going to get him.”

“Arthur, you said Morgana-”

“You my permission to do whatever is necessary, just...”

“Bring him back.”

“Please.”

They stared at each other for a moment in silence before Gwaine started moving. “You'd better go get dressed Princess. Don't want to be caught in your undies.” He grabbed a satchel and began shoving things into it.

“You'll find him?”

“I'll do better than find him. I'll make them pay-”

“No.”

“What?”

“Just... just get Merlin and come back. He'll need... he's probably not been treated well, you should bring him back as soon as possible. And then I'll need you here.”

Gwaine looked like he wanted to argue, but he only stared for a minute before nodding. “Right.” Arthur watched him run around the room, grabbing things from piles on the floor and throwing things out of drawers to get at items in the back. He was moving quickly, and tearing his room up in the process. Arthur was glad of the urgency, even if it made him cringe when something glass slammed to the floor and shattered.

“You can take some men, but I can't spare many. I have to be prepared, for when-”

“I don't want any.”

“Gwaine... are you sure?”

“I was running around on my own before you were king, Princess. I can take care of myself.”

Arthur nodded once. “Alright.”

Gwaine threw the bag over his shoulder and turned toward Arthur. It was only a few seconds later that Arthur was enveloped in a hug. He hesitated for a moment before patting Gwaine's back a few times in the same way Gwaine was patting his.

“I'll find him, Arthur. Then I'll yell at you some more.”

“I can live with that.”

Gwaine pulled away, patted Arthur once more on the shoulder, and then ran around him and out to his horse. Arthur leaned against the door frame, loathe to go back to his room. He didn't want to explain to Gwen, in part because he didn't want to live it again. It had been... he didn't want to see that again. He had to save Merlin before it happened.

“Arthur?” Ah, she'd found him. He supposed it wasn't too difficult to figure out. Gwen knew Gwaine came only second to Arthur in friendship with Merlin, so after he woke up screaming for his friend...

“Arthur, here.” She handed him a pair of pants and a shirt, which he hastily pulled on. He avoided looking at his wife as he did so, because he knew as soon as he did she'd demand an explanation.

“What's wrong?” She asked quietly.

“Gwen, I don't feel like talking about it right now.”

“Arthur-”

Arthur began walking down the hall, aware that it was much too early in the morning to be up and about but also certain he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. He didn't _want_ to go back to sleep. He was afraid he'd see Merlin again, in a less than alive way. He didn't think he could handle that.

“Arthur Pendragon, listen to me.”

Arthur paused as he heard Gwen's bare feet slapping the floor behind him, obviously angry. Angry. He wasn't sure he understood angry, but there were always things he didn't quite understand about his wife, and he supposed he probably never would.

“Arthur, tell me what's wrong.” Gwen demanded, coming around to stand in front of the king.

“Gwen, I don't want to talk about it-”

“Why did you run off to Gwaine? Did you tell him?” She was hurt. Ah, that was it. She thought he'd gone running to Gwaine to talk about it instead of her.

“I just sent him... he's going to scout.” Arthur didn't know why he was lying to her. He supposed he was afraid she would think it was wrong, that either he should have gone himself or he shouldn't have sent anyone. He didn't want to hear that right now, because he was sure he would yell at her. That never ended well.

“Why? In the middle of the night? Did you... did you dream about Merlin?” Arthur's jaw clenched at the name. Gwen nodded, as if that confirmed her suspicions. “I'm sure it was nothing, Arthur, just the stress getting to you. He's fine, I'm sure.”

“Yes. Of course.” Arthur answered. They both knew he wasn't convinced.

“Arthur, Merlin's... he's special. He'll be fine. He always is.”

“I know.”

Gwen stared at him for a moment. “Let's go back to bed, Arthur. You need your rest.”

“No thanks. I'm going for a walk”

“I'll go with you.” Gwen was quick to volunteer. Arthur shook his head.

“No, thank you, but I'd like to go alone.”

“Oh... Oh, alright. Whatever's best for you. But he'll be fine. Believe me.”

Arthur nodded and Gwen scooted to the side, letting him walk past. He knew she didn't go back to their room right away, because he footsteps never echoed back to him. She watched him walk away and turn the corner, heading for outside. He needed fresh air and the clear night sky to keep him company for a few hours, let the quiet calm him down.

Merlin was fine. Of course he was fine. In all the scrapes they'd ever gotten themselves into, he'd always come out fine in the end. Maybe worse for wear, but... he always made it through. Arthur had to keep telling himself as he took the stairs two at a time, taking deep breaths of the crisp air that pressed against his face. It didn't help calm him, as he had hoped, but there was something about being under the stars that made things seem hopeful. He could do this. Gwaine would find Merlin, and they'd come back with a few scrapes and bruises. Merlin would be there to tell him when he was being a complete arse and when his plans were crap. And together they would get rid of Morgana and overcome all the stuff she was planning and they could go on living their happy, insubordinate lives. It would be fine. It _would_ be. Because there was no other option.

He could see Gwaine riding away, just barely. He was almost gone, riding hard to make it there as soon as possible. Arthur had a horrible feeling about his friend, and he hoped it was just remnants of the nightmare.

He wasn't sure how long he stood outside, just letting thoughts drift through his head, but he went back inside while it was still dark and made his way to Gaius chambers. He didn't knock when he arrived. He opened the door as quietly as he could, closed it just as quietly, and crept past a snoring Gaius. Merlin's door was a creaky mess, but Gaius didn't wake up. He must be exhausted. Arthur assumed he wasn't sleeping well, he never did when Merlin was in danger.

Arthur fell onto Merlin's bed, wincing slightly. He'd expected it to be a bit more comfortable, honestly. He wasn't sure how Merlin actually slept on this, but he only laid there for a few minutes before he fell easily into a dreamless sleep, clutching at the blanket and praying that Merlin would have the chancce to use it again.

He woke many hours later to the sound of pounding feet. He frowned and rubbed his eyes, sitting up slowly as sleep slowly lost it's hold on him. He pulled himself out of bed, pulled the blankets up to hide evidence of his presence, and slowly made his way out of Merlin's room.

There was no one in Gaius' chambers. He frowned, but he also noted the sunlight streaming through the window and told himself it was normal. He had apparently slept later than he'd planned, but he had also lost a good amount of sleep. He felt refreshed, and that was important.

He left the physician's rooms and walked down the hall, wearing his now wrinkled shirt and pants that were almost inappropriate for this time of day. He walked down the hallways, listening to the yells coming from his knights. He frowned and followed the voices. He found a majority of them in the throne room, arguing.

“What's going on here?” Arthur asked loudly, glaring at the men who were not acting in a manner appropriate for the knights of Camelot. They all turned as one to stare at him before there was a collective sigh of relief.

“Sire, where have you been?” Leon was the first to break the silence, stepping toward the king.

“I was... it doesn't matter. What's going on?” He felt silly, admitting that he was sleeping in his manservant's bed, and it really wasn't any of their business.

“We thought you'd been taken, sire.”

“Taken?”

“The last anyone saw, you were going outside for some air, and when you didn't show up for the council meeting this morning...” Leon was obviously hoping for an explanation, but he wasn't going to get one.

“I was taking some time for myself.” He tried to sound confident, like a King telling someone to stay out of his business, but he wasn't sure it didn't come out like an obstinate prince making excuses.

“Sire, if you would tell us about this beforehand...”

“I apologize. I... didn't think it through. But there's no excuse for wasting time now. There's preparations to be made, and I'm certain you all have work to do.”

There was a general collection of nods from the knights and they began to disperse, attending to whatever duties they'd been assigned before they went crazy looking for the king. Leon stayed, and when the room was cleared out he sighed.

“Arthur, are you alright?”

“I'm fine.”

“We'll get Merlin back.”

“Everyone assumes that's what I need to hear.”

“Isn't it?”

“Maybe I'm just stressed about the war I'm about to have with my ex-sister. Maybe I've got a lot of heavy things on my mind right now and I'm having difficulty sleeping. Maybe my room is perfectly organized and I'm happy with my servant's work ethic for once.” Arthur's voice rose as he spoke. “Maybe I'm not concerned about that idiot, because he's the one that told me to leave him behind and I shouldn't have listened to him, I should have taken both of them or had Gwen help him out or _something_ other than what I did. Maybe I'm just angry at myself and it has nothing to do with _Mer_ lin.”

Leon didn't say anything for a moment as Arthur stared at him, wishing his words were true. Wishing 'We'll get Merlin back' wasn't the phrase that he kept hearing, because it reminded him that Merlin was gone in the first place.

“The Queen told me you sent Gwaine after him last night.” Leon said after a moment of silence. “I've rearrange the duties to account for his absence, at least until he comes back.”

“Thank you, Leon.”

“I also canceled the council meeting today. There's a lot of work to catch up on, and I thought we could go one day without bickering.”

“Thank you.”

“I also organized a hunt for later today.”

“A hunt?”

“Yes sire; we need to stock up on food before the army gets here.”

Arthur knew he was mentioning it not because of their need to gather food, although that was very important. He knew that hunts were good for Arthur, that they got his mind and body both out of the castle and on the simple task of following prey and killing it.

But he didn't think it would help this time. Merlin always went on hunts with them, and while he yelled at the bumbling idiot, he knew that was part of the reason they calmed him down. It was easy, simple, a time with his friend outside of the constructs that the castle created.

“I'm afraid I won't be joining. I... have other duties to attend to.”

Leon looked surprised for a moment before he seemed to understand. He nodded. “That's too bad. We would have benefited from your skill, but I'm sure we'll make do.”

“Thank you, Leon. Really.”

Leon nodded and bowed. “Sire.” He smiled at Arthur, patted him once on the shoulder, and then left the throne room.

Arthur stared at his throne for a moment, thinking of simpler times when they hosted banquets and the hardest part of the night was getting Merlin to do his job well. But even that wasn't true. Right from the beginning, Merlin had been in danger. He'd saved Arthur from a dagger his first night in the hall. He'd drank poison in order to save Arthur's life. It had never really been _simple_ with Merlin, but at least Arthur had been doing whatever necessary to save the boy. Now he was sitting in Camelot, halfheartedly planning for a war while Merlin was no doubt tortured by Morgana and her men. There was nothing he could do for Merlin right now.

Well. Arthur ran a hand through his hair. Planning for a war could be done for Merlin. Merlin would need a safe place to stay once he returned, after all. And what point was there having Merlin back if there was no kingdom or people?

Arthur left the room with renewed purpose, heading to the war room to again stare at the map and plan how best to defend his kingdom from Morgana. That was something he could do, something he was good at, and something he was determined not to fail at. He would protect Camelot. Merlin would come home to a good plan and a swift defeat of their enemies.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Gwaine rode hard, and although the fear that his horse would not make the trip at this pace nagged at him, he couldn't bring himself to slow. He needed to make it, quickly. The look on Arthur's face as he begged Gwaine to leave said he knew something was wrong, or at least suspected. Gwaine wouldn't take any chances with the boy.

He was forced to stop for the night, but he hardly slept. It was more for the horse than for him, and even the horse seemed antsy. He didn't dare light a fire, for fear of attracting the attention of the enemy, even though he shouldn't be close enough to the camp yet. From Arthur's story, they shouldn't have been either, and yet they'd been caught without a fire and, according to Arthur, 'without Merlin's prattle it was silent.'

Because he was hyper aware of the noises around him, he woke up immediately when he heard footsteps. Slowly, making as little noise as possible, he reached for the bare sword he'd placed next to his bedroll and stood. His eyes raked across the small clearing he'd stopped in, taking in every movement, every sound, until he caught the faint outline of a large man, the sparse moonlight hitting his chain mail and creating a slight silhouette. Gwaine ducked down to lessen his visibility and crept forward, making his way just to the right of the man and pressing his back against the tree there.

The man slowed, and Gwaine held his breath. He only had a few seconds before the enemy broke into the clearing, and he'd have to move quickly if he wanted to gain the upper hand. This man had quite a bit of bulk on Gwaine, if what he'd seen was muscle and not clothes.

Gwaine counted the steps. _One... two... three_.

Gwaine leapt from his hiding spot, swinging his sword. He was disappointed when he heard it clang against a similar weapon, but he fell back and threw himself forward again, attacking with the anger he'd felt ever since Arthur had taken Merlin, had gotten the boy into this mess-

“Gwaine, it's me.” Gwaine froze as he recognized the voice, and soon after the name burst from his lips.

“ _Percy?_ ”

He heard the deep chuckle and took that as confirmation. Gwaine let his sword fall to the ground as he flung himself at the knight, wrapping him in a tight embrace before stepping back and laughing. “When did you – you should be in Camelot!”

“I asked permission to come with you.”

“And Arthur told you yes?”

“I... asked Gwen.” The large knight looked mildly embarrassed that he'd gone behind the king's back, but not at all regretful.

“We'll turn you into a real knight yet!” Gwaine crowed, immediately regretting the noise he was making. Just because Percival wasn't an enemy didn't mean there were none around. He lowered his voice as he asked, “Didn't you bring a horse?”

“He's back a ways. Didn't want to ride into your sword.”

“Probably a good choice.” Gwaine patted Percival hard on the back several times before returning to his bedroll. Percival left for only a few minutes before he returned, his horse in tow. It took him less time than that to spread out a bedroll next to Gwaine and lay down.

“I'll take first watch.” Gwaine offered, noting how tired his friend looked. Percival had to have been riding just as hard as Gwaine, to have made it this quickly. He needed the sleep more than Gwaine did. Percival nodded, and was asleep almost instantly. Gwaine chuckled quietly to himself and ran his fingers over the hilt of his sword. He hadn't realized how much he wanted a companion to help him in this crazy plan he was going to try.

M-M-M

Gwaine and Percival left just before dawn. Gwaine hadn't slept at all after Percival had arrived, but he hadn't felt the need. He was too antsy to settle down, and Percival had snored up until Gwaine had decided they needed to get moving.

Everything packed up quickly, and then they were pushing again. The horses wouldn't be able to make this kind of pace back, especially not with an extra person. Gwaine was hoping that he'd be able to steal three new horses to take them home. If not... they'd figure it out. Gwaine was determined that he wouldn't fail where Arthur had. He understood, in a way, but he couldn't overlook the fact that Merlin was now in trouble because of the king.

They came upon the camp faster than Gwaine had expected; obviously they had moved, because what should have been at least a day longer was only a few hours. It seemed smaller than Arthur had described, but then again, the king had been otherwise occupied. Gwaine dismounted and lead his horse once they saw the guards around the edges of the camp, and Percival did the same, the larger knight quiet as usual. Gwaine usually liked to poke at the knight, make him have some kind of outburst, because it was unnatural how quietly and calmly he took everything. Now wasn't the time for that.

“Oy, what're you doing?” One of the guards demanded, a hand held threateningly on the hilt of a sword. Gwaine put his hands up, and, assuming Percival did the same next to him, continued forward, slowly..

“Just lookin' to join.” Gwaine said easily. His laid back demeanor made the guards relax slightly, and Gwaine strutted forward with slightly more speed.

“Join what? I dunno what you're talkin' about.”

“C'mon, mate. The fight against the king, returning magic to Camelot, the whole deal. We want in.”

“You magic users?”

“Course not. That's why we have the swords.”

“Well, then I don't have to report you to the Lady Morgana.”

“You have to send the magic users to her?”

“She likes to test 'em. Most of 'em don't make the cut.”

“What happens then?”

Gwaine didn't like the silence he got in response, but somehow, he wasn't at all surprised. Morgana had turned heartless pretty quickly. He also felt a ball of tension he hadn't realized was in his chest relax. Morgana's army. Of course Morgana would be checking the soldiers that entered. Obviously the regular soldiers weren't worth her time, which was very helpful for the two knights.

“Well, you'll need to be processed, but that won't happen until tomorrow. We just moved here today, everyone's still busy getting set up. Just find a tent and set it, Someone will find you in the morning.”

“Sounds good to me.” Gwaine nodded and put his hands down. He had reached the edge of the camp by the time they were finished talking, and the guard waved him through without so much as a second glance. Security was certainly lax around here. Gwaine wondered if that was because of the effort it took to move such a large force, or if there would be more tests further along. Gwaine didn't plan to stay long enough to find out.

“Did that seem a little too easy to you?” Gwaine asked quietly as Percival walked alongside him.

“A bit.” Percival agreed, and Gwaine was glad to know they would both be on their toes for anything. He would never admit it, but Gwaine was very pleased to have the other man's company.

The camp resembled that of a war camp now; men running to and fro on various missions, campfires only being used to cook a quick meal before continuing on. Gwaine and Percival perked up, pretending they were on a similar mission to the men that pushed their way past. It wasn't difficult to fit in here, not when everyone else was wearing the same plain clothes that they were, the same weary walks and distracted gazes. Gwaine glanced at the faces that passed him occasionally, but mostly his looks were an attempt to decide where Merlin would be. Morgana would never keep him near the outside of the camp, he was too likely to magically slip away.

Gwaine snorted to himself. Magically. Apparently it wasn't that easy, or the kid would have escaped on his own. Merlin wouldn't stay unless he couldn't leave. He wouldn't put people in danger. Gwaine knew that much about his friend. He'd seen the little things Merlin did when he thought no one was looking, the times he saved them all and pretended it had been someone else. He really wasn't all that good at hiding it, especially if you knew about it. And Gwaine had known about it for longer than he'd been a knight, so it was easy to see. He'd never told Merlin that he knew. He figured Merlin would be less likely to make a dumb mistake if he thought he had to hide it from everyone. And with Arthur... Arthur was a good king, and a great man. Gwaine would never admit it to the king's face, of course. He had a big enough head as it was. But he also was a bit of a wild card when it came to magic, and Merlin didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of whatever wrath Arthur had left over from Uther.

Percival nudged Gwaine, and he turned to see a woman with black hair and a ratty old dress with a hood. Gwaine cursed and put his head down as he walked faster. Morgana couldn't catch them. Not now, not later, not once they'd found Merlin. She shouldn't know they were there until she discovered Merlin was long gone and probably back within Camelot's walls. Somewhere that he could be safe and protected unless the whole of Camelot was burning, and maybe even then. Gwaine was determined that Merlin wouldn't have to suffer this again so long as he was around.

They kept their heads down and merged with a group of men, working their way into the middle of the group. It was amazing how easily the group moved to accept them, as if it was perfectly normal that two people would want to join their trek to wherever. They made their fay farther into the camp pushed against other men until they were sure Morgana wasn't around, and then broke off to go in a different direction. Gwaine thought the very middle of the camp, see if they heard anything, and then they'd work their way out. Percival hadn't said much, so Gwaine took it as approval.

The farther in they got, the more organized things looked. It made perfect sense, of course; the inner workings would be the most important, the things that had to run smoothly for everything to be successful. Gwaine hated that Morgana had thought that through, or had someone to think it through for her. He wanted her to fail, miserably, for so many reasons. He wasn't even a little embarrassed to admit that Camelot wasn't the first. He was sure he wasn't alone in that.

“Percy? Any ideas?” Gwaine asked as they reached what he assumed was the middle, judging by the circle of tents around a small campfire that seemed to radiate out into the rest of the camp. Percival took his time to look around, because there didn't seem to be as much activity here and they could afford to stop moving for a second and take a breather.

Percival shrugged, walked up to one of the tents, and muttered, “Merlin?” They both paused for a minute, but they didn't hear anything. No one around seemed to think it was weird, so they continued on like that for quite a while, carefully listening after calling Merlin's name in the hopes that they'd hear him answer. There were several times when they had to duck for cover or find a way to look inconspicuous, but for the most part they were left completely alone. Gwaine thought it was still too easy. Someone should have been suspicious of them. Someone should have realized that they were looking for a prisoner, because they weren't being very quiet with Merlin's name, more out of desperation than anything else.

Gwaine called for the boy for what had to be the thousandth time, waiting the mandatory five seconds before moving on. Those moments were the worst: waiting to see if they'd finally found him, if he was alive and well and would make the trip back. Gwaine was terrified that they'd find him only to realize he wouldn't live to make it home, that they'd either take him and watch him die or they'd leave him and hope he would heal enough on his own.

“They said to move her in with the kid, Mor- the lady doesn't want to have two separate tents anymore. Says we need to lighten up so we can move faster.”

“But that just makes it easier for anyone to rescue both-”

“Just do what she says, alright? Last time someone argued, she made him bleed out of his eyes before killing him.”

“Yeah yeah, I was going to, it just-”

“Just shut up.”

Gwaine watched as the two speakers appeared around the corner, but they seemed too focused on their conversation to notice the two knights eavesdropping. Gwaine caught Percival's eye and they began tailing the two men, keeping a good distance behind them.

They followed for only a few minutes when the two men stopped at a particularly shabby looking tent and ducked inside. Gwaine stopped walking in favor of examining a hole in his shoe, and Percival leaned against a post and closed his eyes. Gwaine strained to hear the conversation that was happening inside, but the voices were low and there were too many people having conversations around him. They weren't in there long before the first man stepped out, and behind him was who Gwaine knew immediately was Queen Amethyst.

She obviously had suffered under Morgana. Her red hair was knotted and greasy, her face smudged with dirt and her dress torn and lacking the splendor it once had. But there was no mistaking the proud chin and sparkling green eyes. She still retained her royal poise even when being hauled across an enemy camp on her lands by Morgana's minions. Gwaine felt a deep sense of respect for the woman.

They didn't speak much as they forced her across the camp, and Gwaine wasn't sure if they were afraid of her or just didn't feel like talking. She seemed to shoot them looks every time something didn't go quite right, and they avoided making eye contact with her. Perhaps they didn't agree with the treatment she was receiving, or she had done something to deserve their total attention. Whatever the case, Gwaine found himself liking her more and more the longer they followed her. Too bad she was a queen. He'd love to get to know her a little better.

They arrived at another tent, this one with heavily armed guards and a sorcerer sitting across the path, watching everyone who passed as he made images dance in the flames of the fire at his feet. They walked into the tent, and suddenly what Gwaine assumed was the Queen's voice rose, loudly.

“I demand you give this man proper attention!” She was very angry, and Gwaine watched as the sorcerer rolled his eyes even as the guards jumped slightly. There was quiet murmuring as the guards attempted to placate her, but the sound of flesh hitting flesh followed and her loud voice proclaimed, “I will _not_ settle down! This man is in appalling condition, and it's your job to make sure your prisoners stay alive! Get him medical-” Her voice cut off, probably silenced by one of the guards. Maybe threatened. Gwaine wondered how bad Merlin was, if she was that concerned for his well-being. He also couldn't help but like the foreign queen a little more because of her defense of the boy.

The two guards left a short time later, one of them sporting a red handprint on the side of his face. Gwaine wanted to chuckle at that. She certainly was a feisty royal, that was for sure. However, the weight of the situation forced the sound down his throat.

Gwaine turned to Percival. “What should we do?” He wanted desperately to rush in and save Merlin, but now the Queen complicated matters. He'd have to rescue both, no doubt about it. He couldn't leave her while he saved his friend, even if Merlin deserved it more and was probably much worse off. She didn't deserve that. But there was also the sorcerer to keep in mind. Gwaine wasn't afraid of magic, like many in Camelot were, and he suspected that Percival was of the same opinion. It could definitely be used for evil, but there was so much good it could do as well. Obviously this sorcerer wouldn't be using good magic when Gwaine and Percival attempted to steal the prisoners. Besides, the ugly sneer on the man's face said he was just waiting for someone to try, because he had all kinds of nasty things up his sleeve. And then there were the multiple guards... they wouldn't be a problem, not really, if not for the sorcerer.

Percival watched the movement for a while before he sighed. “We'll probably have to wait.” He said quietly. Gwaine nodded. There had to be a changing of the guard, or a time when the sorcerer would get distracted, or... something. It wasn't an option to pretend they were authorized to do anything. With prisoners that merited this many guards, no one would believe they had to escort the two elsewhere, not without orders they all knew about. And they certainly wouldn't allow the new kids in the army to guard.

Feeling less than useless, Gwaine asked Percival to go look for that tent they were supposed to have found. They'd have to look legit by morning if they were going to stay long enough to get Merlin out.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is somewhat under par and late - I deeply apologize. Immediately following an exhausting week of bible school I got a nasty head cold, and I just couldn't get this chapter out. But I hope you like it a little bit! Thanks for sticking with me!


	13. Chapter 13

Merlin's idea of time was very skewed as he sat in that canvas prison, waiting for something – anything – to change. Because it couldn't just stay this way, it couldn't. He hurt _so badly_. He either wanted it to get better or to stop completely, and right then it was just constant, painful, awful. 

The only thing that made any difference was the knowledge that Arthur wouldn't leave him. Arthur would find him, get him back somehow, and Arthur would fix him and make everything better. He kept that single thought running through his head as he waited. And waited. And waited. Fading into and out of consciousness, dreaming of escaping and then waking to the cold reality. At one point he noticed that he'd been moved, and the ropes didn't scrape at his wrists quite so much anymore. Either a kindness or an oversight, but he was glad nonetheless. He hardly had time to be glad before the pain pulled him into another dream of being rescued, or saying goodbye to Arthur. Maybe both. He never quite remembered when he woke.

The next thing he heard was a woman's voice, loud, uncomfortable. He cringed away from it, but that hurt so much more than the loud voice assaulting his ear drums, so he resolved to sit still and wait for it to finish. It wasn't very long, and when he cracked his eyes open at the end of it only a woman remained in the tent. Her hands were bound in front of her, but they hadn't taken the time to secure her to the post. Perhaps she wasn't much of a threat. Perhaps they had something to keep her around. Whatever the case, he discovered her kneeling in front of him, looking at the dried blood on his chest that hardly covered the wounds beneath. She glanced up and met his blue eyes, and her face softened considerably. She had a kind face, although her chin and nose suggested a stubbornness that was necessary in her line of work. Merlin had seen the Queen of Amira before, in talks with Arthur and even once with Uther. She was just as beautiful now as she had always been, even though her hair needed a good wash and her clothes had lost the regality they once held.

She gave Merlin a soft smile, which was so different from the fierce, independent queen she had always been before. “I'm Amethyst. What's your name?” She asked gently, and it took Merlin a minute to remember that he was supposed to answer.

“Merlin.” He managed to answer, although just the single word made him realize he didn't want to hold a conversation.

She nodded. “You're hurt pretty bad, Merlin. I'm going to try and bind some of this, alright? It's going to hurt, but I hope it helps in the end. We'll be able to do better when we escape.”

Merlin nodded confirmation for her to continue. “Guard?” She called, the harsh quality of her voice contrasting sharply with the soothing tone of before. A man poked his head in, looking weary.

“Yes?”

“I need some water.”

“I'm not allowed-”

“ _Now._ ” 

The guard jumped, startled, and backed out of the tent. Amethysy – Queen Amethyst, Merlin reminded himself, she was royalty – returned her attention to Merlin.

“Don't leave me now, Merlin. I know it hurts, but I want you to stay awake with me. You're strong, you've lasted this long. Just a little while longer. Where are you from, Merlin?”

“Camelot.” He muttered. It was getting hard to keep his eyes open. The physician's student in him realized that it was because of his injuries, and that the queen was right – he needed to stay awake. It was possible that his body just wanted to sleep, because of the extra work it was putting into his healing. However, it was just as possible that his body was trying to shut down, and he'd never wake again. He couldn't have that. He knew that.

But the other part of him just wanted to sleep. It begged, pleaded, just let everything drift away and let go of the pain. He couldn't listen to that part, he knew he couldn't.

“Camelot. That means you know Arthur?”

Merlin nodded.

“Keep those eyes open for me, Merlin. How do you know Arthur?”

“Servant.”

“His?”

Merlin nodded again.

“Ah. That must be a real pain, from what I know of Arthur. He's probably rough on you all the time, isn't he? Well, then this must be nothing. You can push through this if you can serve the brat of a Pendragon.”

She smiled at Merlin, and Merlin couldn't help the slight chuckle that slipped out. He cringed and wished he hadn't, but the queen pretended she hadn't seen. How kind of her, to pretend Merlin wasn't as weak as he felt. She must be a great queen, perhaps almost as great as Arthur. Almost. Merlin thought they probably could get along, if they weren't so busy running their separate kingdoms. Perhaps Merlin would have to suggest an informal sit down. It could help improve relations between the two countries, if they could just forget all the politics for one evening and enjoy eachother's company.

“Thank you.” Merlin hadn't realized his mind had been drifting until the queen spoke again. Merlin looked at her just as the sound of ripping filled the air. She pulled a strip of fabric off of her dress and soaked it in the small, wooden bowl that had been brought in for her, full of clear water. It was dirtied quickly, but that didn't seem to bother the queen as she rung out the cloth and turned toward Merlin.

“Remember Merlin, this is going to hurt. But stay with me, alright? Tell me about Arthur.”

Merlin nodded. “He's... a prat.” Merlin clenched his teeth as the damp cloth laid against his chest, gently dabbing at the stripes there that still held salt.

“Come on, Merlin, tell me more.” She dabbed at the wounds, and Merlin wanted to let go, to just let go and let everything be dark and painless and easy. But Amethyst shook her head when he started to let his eyes clothes.

“Oh no you don't, lad, you're going to stay awake and tell me about Arthur. A prat, huh? What makes him a prat?”

“Everything.” The word came between gritted teeth as she continued to clean, drawing out more pain.

“But you don't hate him. Tell me about that. What makes him worth your time?”

“He's... a good man.” Merlin couldn't get enough air into his lungs, because every breath he took made it hurt worse than before. So he tried shallow breaths, but it was never enough.

“Okay Merlin. Just breathe for me. I know it hurts, I know, but take a deep breath.”

Merlin struggled to obey the instructions. He pushed through the pain it caused and sucked in as much air as he could.

“Good, good, you're doing great Merlin. I'm going to start binding it now, but it shouldn't hurt quite as badly. Alright? You've just got a little bit more to struggle through, and then I'll be finished. Then you can tell me all about your prat of a king.”

Merlin slowly let the air leave his body as she began wrapping more strips around his thin, frail body, being careful to keep them tight but cause the least amount of pain possible. Merlin fought to continue taking good breaths, but by the end of the binding process he had returned to quick, shallow pants. The queen didn't seem to mind. She gave Merlin a small smile.

“All done. I promise, it will feel better, with time.”

Merlin nodded. He knew. He'd not only watched others go through the same, but he'd been through it himself many times before. She must have seen something of that on his face.

“Do you have practice with getting this injured, or are you a physician?”

“Both.”

“Ah, that's probably good. That means this is nothing. Okay? You'll be fine, this is just another day that you'll have to get through.”

Merlin nodded, and the way her eyes lit up made him want to do whatever he could to keep it that way. There was a reason she was a queen that received unswerving devotion from her people, and for the first time Merlin was really starting to understand why. It wasn't that she could fight against the men in battles of will and stand her ground, nor that she was very beautiful, even as far as royalty was concerned. On top of those she was compassionate, caring, and made men feel they could do anything if she believed in them. If Arthur hadn't found love in Gwen, marrying Amethyst would have been the next best thing. Although she was probably too stubborn to live comfortably with Merlin's stubborn king.

The queen slouched when Merlin made it clear he was going to be fine by relaxing slightly against the pole he was tied to. “I'd help you out of that, but I'm afraid you'll be in trouble if I do.”

“What about you? Your highness?” Merlin's voice was quiet, but it was easier to speak now that the pain had faded a bit. It still hurt, a lot, but it was better.

“All they have to do is threaten my people, and I'm helpless.” She said, shrugging with a sad smile on her face. “Being a queen doesn't actually grant you all that much freedom. And Amethyst, please. We're both prisoners here. But I appreciate it.”

Merlin nodded. He closed his eyes and laid his head back against the pole, breathing quietly.

“Don't you go dying on my now.” Amethyst muttered.

“I won't.”

“Good. We'll get you back to Camelot.”

“Arthur will come.”

Amethyst was quiet for a long time, and Merlin found it difficult not to let sleep overtake him as he waited for a response he was sure would come.

“You believe your king will come rescue you?” There was obvious disbelief in her voice, and a bit of sympathy as well; she thought he was deluded. It made sense that she wouldn't believe a king would come to the rescue of a manservant, of course. But she didn't know Arthur in the way that Merlin did, she only saw the side of him he had to show kingdoms that Camelot was strong, too strong to challenge. She didn't see the softer side of the man who had risked his life on many occasions to save his servant.

“I know he will.” Merlin answered. He heard her move, but was still startled to feel her shoulder slide up next to his. He cringed only a little, but she still noticed.

“I'm sorry. I just want to be close. In case.”

“Wasn't so bad.”

“You're strong, Merlin. I don't say that because I have to, so you'll believe in yourself. Although I admit, I did that initially.” Merlin granted her a small smile and she continued. “I would be fortunate to have someone like you by my side.”

“I won't leave Camelot.”

“I don't doubt it. I was just paying you a compliment. I wouldn't think well of you if you left just because I gave you a compliment.” She laughed quietly, a beautiful sound. Merlin wondered why she didn't have a king. Did she once, and he passed away? Was she given control of her kingdom by merit, not by a man? Did she choose to remain without a king, or was she somehow kept from it?

“I know what you're thinking.” Her voice was quiet, with a resigned chuckle following. “Everyone does, usually soon after we meet. Why am I a single queen without a king?”

“You don't need a king.” Merlin tried to allay her suspicion, even though he longed to know the answer.

“I don't. You're right.” There was a smile in her voice. Merlin cracked an eye open to see it on her face. “I had a husband. After I became queen, I married. Amira is ruled by queens, and always has been. I was pressured to marry for an advantage, but like your king I married for love. He wasn't a servant, but he wasn't royalty from outside the kingdom, either. He was a merchant with a successful textile business. But he had no idea how to handle a sword, so he couldn't stop the mercenaries that killed him in his sleep while I was in Camelot negotiating trade.”

“Why?”

“To break me down, I suppose. I blamed Camelot for a long time, but I learned later that Arthur had never known I was married. I've never learned why, for certain.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Thank you. No sleeping, remember. I'll only continue story time if you stay awake.”

“Yes ma'am.”

“That's what I like to hear. I miss him, of course, but it was many years ago already. We were a young couple, married immediately after I was old enough to take the crown and separated not long after, but those were the best years of my life.”

“What was he like?” Merlin asked quietly. He liked listening to her talk. It was something to focus on, and that was the only way he was going to stay awake. Besides that, it wasn't everyday that he was able to hear a foreign queen's story from her own mouth.

“Quiet. Very quiet. I bought cloth from him once, although he didn't know it was me. I invited him to a ball my regent was forcing me to attend to meet foreign royalty, in the hopes that I would marry. I wore the dress made from the cloth I'd bought from him. He thought that was spectacular, and we danced a lot that night. The foreigners were glad of that, I think: I was far too independent for them to handle, and they didn't want to make excuses for not accepting me as a wife. We grew close, and when I came of age I was crowned and then we married. He always had a joke for me, although he was always too shy to tell it to anyone else. And he had crinkles by his eyes every time he smiled, which was a lot. I told him he'd have wrinkles early, which only made him laugh more. He let me do my job and he did his, and offered advice when I asked. He was... well, we argued, at times, but he was perfect for me. What about you, Merlin? Any ladies in your life?”

Merlin wanted to laugh it off, but he still remembered Freya... so he nodded. “I didn't know her long. She... she died.”

“It's too fresh to talk about.” Amethyst said before he could continue. “The way your forehead creases says you were very close to her and it's too hard to talk about. So we won't.”

Merlin was grateful, and amazed at her perception. She was certainly a people person.

They talked all night, and although Merlin mentioned how tired the queen must be, she refused to sleep if he couldn't. So she told him all about her life, about her people, about her dreams for them and for herself. She never wanted to meet another man to love, because she didn't think she could go through that again. Besides, no man could ever be as great as her husband had been. She talked about absolutely everything that came to mind, pleased whenever Merlin gave a short answer.

But it wasn't far into morning that Amethyst asked Merlin if he was in pain. Merlin shook his head, asked why.

“Your breathing is faster. And you're pale.” She frowned and reached a hand forward, touching Merlin's forehead. “And you're sweating. You have a fever. There must be deep-set infection.” She crawled away from Merlin and stuck her head out the door. She had a quiet, fierce conversation with one of the guards before coming back inside, sitting in front of Merlin.

“I'm getting clean water, alright? It'll be cool, we'll knock out that fever before it has a chance to really set in.”

Merlin nodded. His mind was fuzzy, but the onset had been so gradual that he hadn't noticed how bad it ha gotten until now. He scolded himself. He was better than this. He was  _Emrys_ , for crying out loud. He was the warlock of prophecy, and he was going to be beaten by Morgana and her goons. He wasn't about to let a fever get the best of him. 

The water was delivered and the queen tore another strip of cloth off of her dress, which really shouldn't lose much more. She soaked it and put it on his forehead, holding it there because she couldn't tie it with her hands bound. Merlin closed his eyes and let the cool seep into him, feeling relief. He urged his magic to help the process along, but he didn't think anything was happening. Sometimes he wished he could consciously use the subconscious magic that seemed to keep him alive in the worst of situations.

He couldn't help it as he fell into sleep when the fever worsened. He tried to stay awake, he did, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. He could hear Amethyst commanding that he not give in, but it wasn't giving in, it was losing. He lost the battle for consciousness, and only time would tell if he would regret that.

M.M.M

Arthur couldn't focus in the too-frequent council meetings, nor when he was training with the knights. Eventually, he began training on his own, because he was making a fool of himself when he lost duels to men who were supposed to be weaker than he. He had Leon attend council meetings with him, because the man was able to prompt him when a response was necessary and kept an eye on the proceedings otherwise. He was basically useless, and he knew he should have gone to get Merlin.

But he needed to make decisions here. And while it was great to have Leon to help, the knight wasn't able to make the decisions. And even though he trained alone, he had the knights running every single scenario possible, training for all kinds of battles, specifically those with a sorcerer involved. They were well-prepared for fights with swords, but magic wasn't something they actively trained to fight. He had spies running around Amira, looking for signs that Queen Amethyst was assisting Morgana in any way, and plans in place if they found that to be true. Neighboring kingdoms would be glad to pounce if Amira was a target, because it was a fertile, happy land. He had prepared for everything he could, but it wasn't enough. Merlin would know something was wrong, he would point out a flaw. He would be able to see through this.

Arthur sighed as he stared at the horizon, toward where he knew Merlin was waiting to be rescued. He wished he was there, helping. He hoped that Gwaine was on his way back, Merlin in tow. And Percival. Arthur had been angry immediately after he'd discovered the quiet knight's absence, but Gwen had easily calmed him. After all, Gwaine would probably need help if he was to return with an in tact Merlin, and Percival was just the man to keep the more hot-headed knight in check when his temper flared. So Arthur had taken back his vow to kill the knight upon arrival, instead planning to thank him when Merlin was returned alive and well. He refused to think about if Merlin was not brought home in a decent condition. He would be. There wasn't another option.

“Sire. We're wanted in the throne room.” Leon's voice interrupted his thoughts. It was probably for the better. Whenever he began to think too much about Merlin's absence, he became depressed and inconsolable. He needed to have his head on right, so Merlin would have a home to come back to. He had to keep reminding himself of that.

“Of course. Any news?”

Leon knew what he was supposed to answer. He also knew what Arthur really wanted to know. “The army is still in the process of moving, and there's no word on the knights you sent out.”

“Thank you.” Arthur followed Leon out of the room, on his way to the place that was quickly becoming his least favorite part of the castle. The meeting would be long, dull, and more than likely, pointless. But perhaps, when it was finished, Merlin would be back.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I think I'll get on a schedule with posting, and I convince myself that it's a good idea, but then I get too excited and post chapters shortly after they're finished or I get too busy to write chapters. So that's a thing. But here's 13, I hope you enjoy it!


	14. Chapter 14

Gwaine and Percival arrived for their processing early the next morning, as per request. They'd found a tent under the roof of a supply cart, set up as close to Merlin as they could get, and got a little rest over night. Gwaine had resisted, but Percival, ever the voice of reason, had explained that they would need their strength on the hard ride back to Camelot with a, presumable, injured Merlin to keep safe. So Gwaine had agreed, although he suspected Percival had slept just as poorly as he had.

It turned out that 'processing' just meant putting down names and being given the uniform that everyone had to wear, as well as trading their weary mounts for young ones. So Gwaine and Percival had given the names 'Elias' and 'Nate' and took the black cloth and cheap chain mail that was thrust at them. There were swords available, as well, but Gwaine had explained that they had their own. So they walked away with instructions to train on their own and find their own food. Gwaine was surprised that they had so much freedom, but he supposed Morgana would be focusing all of her efforts on training the sorcerers, because they would do the real damage to Camelot. After all, Camelot held the best knights around, so swordsmen probably wouldn't be much help aside from sword fodder. At least, that's what Gwaine decided.

They spent much of that day sulking around the tent, wearing the new apparel they'd been given. There were several times that Queen Amethyst demanded something of the guards, and they would, eventually, hurry to get it for her. Mostly it was just water. Water, water, and more water. It seemed strange that they ran to get whatever she asked for, but Gwaine assumed there was some reason. Morgana was getting something out of it. Maybe it kept her quiet, easy to control.

He could only hope that she was helping Merlin while they waited around for something to happen. It was unlikely that she wouldn't; Merlin had a way of making people like him, and if he was in trouble, he doubted the queen could resist. They had that going for them, at least. Besides, he'd gotten the impression that she was a good queen, if a little domineering, from Arthur. He wouldn't consider her 'good' unless she had proven herself a hero of her people. Merlin was in good hands. He had to keep telling himself that.

The camp was set to move again the next day, and Percival and Gwaine spent all of that time trying to find an opening in the guard for Merlin and Queen Amethyst. The knights were beginning to lose hope that the guards would ever change. Gwaine was preparing to make a mad dash for the prisoners, and hope that he could get all of them out without mishap. He stopped when he heard yelling.

It was definitely the queen's voice, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. She was frantic, and the guards looked a little concerned as well. When one ducked his head in, he came out terrified, ordering the men around. Gwaine frowned, and without a second's hesitation made his way over.

“What's going on?” He demanded, attempting to exude authority. One of the men glanced at him for only a moment before pointing at the tent.

“One of the prisoners isn't doing well. Morgana will be pissed if he dies.”

“Let me see. I have some training in medicine.”

He nodded. “Anything you can do to keep him alive. He's not much use if he's dead.”

Gwaine gave an answering nod, even though he wanted to strangle the man. This man didn't know how important Merlin was, useful or not. He deserved more than this. But at least he'd found his chance. If he could convince them he had to take Merlin, get him somewhere else for healing... just so long as someone who actually knew about healing didn't catch them. Gwaine wouldn't be able to explain his way out of that.

He pushed past the man and ducked into the tent, freezing as he saw Merlin.

The boy didn't look good. There were bandages all up his torso and arms, as well as circling his neck. There were uncovered cuts on his cheeks, but those at least were scabbed over. The bandages were red, and he wasn't sure that it was very old blood soaking them. There was the queen next to him, but her attention was focused solely on the soaking rag she held to his forehead and the quiet words she was muttering to him, her fingers checking his pulse as she did so.

“Merlin.” Gwaine knelt next to him and went to put a hand on the boy's shoulder, but stopped himself just before the queen could react.

“He doesn't need you to touch him, he needs you to get him water and medicine for his fever. Clean bandages would help too, get on it.”

She didn't look at Gwaine as she made her demands, but he still felt as though he should wither and fade away. No wonder the guards did what she asked.

“Is he...?” Gwaine didn't know what he was asking, not really. He was lost for the moment, attempting to make the decision that he and Percival had both agreed had to be made; would Merlin survive the trip? Should they take him, or should they leave him?

“He'll be fine, if you just-” It was then that she turned to look at him. She frowned, glancing at the uniform he wore and then back at the concerned expression on his face. “You know him?”

“I- I do. He's -”

“ _He's_ King Arthur's manservant, which means you either come from Camelot, or...”

“Or?”

“Or you're an enemy. And if you do anything to hurt him, _anything_ , you'll have worse than Morgana's wrath to worry about.” The sudden vehemence in her voice matched the fire in her eyes, and Gwaine couldn't help it. He chuckled in relief, glad that he'd found someone to care for the boy as much as he did in a place as unlikely as this. 

“You find that funny?” 

“I – no. 'Course not. I'm just glad-”

“I may be the prisoner here, but I won't hesitate to put you in the ground.”

Gwaine sobered up immediately as he realized she was not only deadly serious, but perfectly capable. At least, she had the confidence to make him believe it was so. “I'm a knight. From Camelot. Arthur sent me.”

She stared at him for a minute, clearly trying to decide if he spoke the truth. “You. He sent you. Just one man.”

“Well, there's Percy too.”

“Two.”

“He _is_ trying to prepare for a war, you know.”

She stared at him for a moment before sighing. “You're right, of course. And he probably hasn't divulged any war secrets to his manservant, anyway. If I remember anything of Camelot, it's the disregard for even the best of servants.”

“Hey now-”

“We can fight about your king later. Merlin needs medicine, and clearly I'm not getting it here. Since you're here to rescue him, I assume you have plans to get us out safely?”

Gwaine chuckled and scratched the back of his head, putting off a response until he knew what to say. “Well, we get you and Merlin to the horses and send you on your way until we can follow?”

“That's... alright. Do we have any protective measures?”

“I have a sword.”

“You have a- there is an army of sorcerers here and _you have a sword._ Well, we're saved.”

“Hey now, I'm a knight of Camelot, one of the best-”

“And they are _sorcerers_. We might as well not leave here, Merlin certainly can't handle the stress of getting recaptured.”

Gwaine ground his teeth. He thought he would like this woman, but she was quickly proving him wrong. “Your highness, I'm aware that it's not a perfect plan, but it's the best we could do on short notice. We probably don't have much time until they come looking, and if Merlin's alright to be moved-”

“We need to get him out of here, regardless. He'll be fine, if we go quickly and as smoothly as possible.”

Gwaine pulled the knife out of his belt and cut the rope around the queen's wrists before moving to free Merlin. The poor boy's wrists were raw, burned by the rope where they weren't torn and bleeding. It would take him a long time to heal from this. But he would heal. He  _would_ .

The knight picked Merlin up carefully, cradling him as the queen instructed. She checked outside quickly, to make sure everyone was busy. Fortunately, Percival had discovered... something... several feet away from the tent, and that was taking everyone's attention. Gwaine would have to ask about it later, after he made sure the bigger knight made it out of the camp safely. He and the queen hurried to the tent that Percival and Gwaine had occupied the night before, to the horses they had procured for themselves early that morning. They'd found three, fortunately, that weren't in use, using the excuse that they were expecting a third man to join them shortly. Gwaine pulled a plain black cloak out of his tent and threw it over Amethyst's shoulders, and she immediately pulled the hood over her face. 

“Take him as far as you can, and hide somewhere until we can catch up.”

“How will you find us?”

“Just go.”

“You have no idea, do you?”

Gwaine tapped the side of his nose and grinned. “That's what makes it so fun.”

Amethyst mounted the brown mare before turning to help Gwaine pull Merlin into the saddle in front of her. She wrapped the cloak around him, almost completely obscuring him from anyone who didn't know he was there.

“Three stones in a row, and a fourth a foot away in the direction we've camped. That'll be your sign. Don't take long. He needs a real physician as soon as possible, or I fear the worst.”

Gwaine barely had time to nod before she pushed the horse into a run. Gwaine hoped she had a good grasp on directions, and where Camelot was in relation to this camp, or they'd be in more trouble. He turned and returned to Percival, who was standing on the edge of what was now a large group surrounding the red cloak on the ground, Camelot's crest gleaming in the sunlight. Gwaine took one look and whistled, drawing the attention of the men. 

“This must mean there's a knight in our camp.” One of the men muttered after acknowledging Gwaine's reaction. “We'll have to double security after this. Morgana will not be pleased.”

“I'm sure she'll be going through all the new recruits now. Probably re-evaluating everyone.”

“Because you found a cloak? Someone could have just stolen it off a knight, kept it for bragging rights-” Gwaine began, but the group didn't seem to agree.

“Do you see anyone bragging about it? And everyone here should know better than to dredge up the Lady's past, she's... touchy, about it. She killed a man that came through just because he looked like someone she used to know.”

“And you – _we_ voluntarily work for her?” Gwaine asked, surprised. If she was so dangerous to the people on her side, the knight couldn't imagine anyone _wanting_ to be on her side.

“She's going to take down Camelot, and give us lands.” 

“That's worth your lives?”

He was met with blank stares and small nods. “It's more than we're getting right now.”

Gwaine frowned. Arthur was doing well, he was doing everything he could- unless these were Amira's people. Maybe there wasn't such a grudge against Camelot, so much as an excess of desperation outside its borders.

Percival nudged Gwaine, reminding him that they didn't have time to hang around. He wanted to convince these people that if they only put down their weapons, Arthur would help them, he would give them what they needed if it was in his ability to do so, and fight for it if it wasn't. But they would never listen. So he turned and fled with Percival.

“Hey! You!” Gwaine's brain went into hyperdrive as he continued walking. Maybe he could pretend he hadn't heard, or maybe the man who had spoken was speaking to someone else. Gwaine kept his head down and pushed on, following Percival's brisk pace.

“Come on, wait a second!” Percival glanced at Gwaine, who shrugged his shoulders. Gwaine didn't slow down as he turned, walking backwards to look at whoever was calling him.

“Aren't you going to stop?” He demanded. He wasn't a large man, by any means; probably just a little over five feet tall and skinny as a bean pole.

“Sorry mate, gotta get going. What do you need?”

“Where are you going?”

“Is that any of your business?”

“I can make it Morgana's business. A Camelot cloak was found and suddenly you two are running away. What have you got to hide?”

“Nothing.” Gwaine stopped walking and let the man catch up. “Do you really think _I_ was responsible for it? Me?”

“I don't know you.”

“No, you don't. Which is why you don't know that one of our friends was supposed to meet us here and never showed, so we're going to find him. It made us worry a little when we saw the cloak, thought maybe some dumbass knight caught him on his way here. So instead of accusing us of trying to bring down this little army, maybe you should be looking for the real culprits and doing something about it.”

The man gave Gwaine a good hard stare. “I don't believe you.”

Gwaine sighed in exasperation. “Fine then, don't believe me, but I've still gotta get going and you still aren't going to stop me. Go tell the Lady, if that's what you want.” Gwaine turned and started off, letting Percival trail behind. The man apparently didn't care enough to stop them himself, because he remained quiet. Gwaine just hoped that meant he wasn't going to Morgana, or they'd be in for some real trouble.

They made it back to their tent with relative ease, just dodging the odd guard that came charging to see the cloak for himself and in general avoiding attention. The mounted the two horses and started toward the exit, keeping a calm trot to avoid further suspicion. They had hardly moved when they heard the alarm sound.

“Shit. That'll be for Merlin and the queen.” Gwaine muttered, and he pushed his horse a little harder. They rode quickly to the edge of the camp, but before they could get there Gwaine heard his name shouted. He turned in the saddle just enough to see Morgana's face, her eyes glowing gold, and then pain broke out in his right shoulder. He clung to the horse with his left hand, cursing under his breath but not slowing the horse. They couldn't face her, she'd just knock them out and take them prisoner. It would be a never ending effort, rescuing the rescuers, and Arthur couldn't afford that. Besides, he had Merlin to take care of. He didn't have time to get captured by the enemy. 

Gwaine heard blasts as the ground blew up around them, but none of them hit their mark. The sound of people yelling, the blare of trumpets signaling the alarm, and Morgana's angry screams followed them until they reached the treeline, and they kept going, as fast and hard as they could. Eventually the sound died out behind them, and although Gwaine had assumed they'd be followed, they heard nothing. No horses in a search party, no yelling, just absolute silence. It made Gwaine nervous, but he was mostly focusing on staying on the horse. He had no idea how Merlin had managed to ride all the way to the camp with a wound in his side, because Gwaine was having difficulty with one in his shoulder. He kept telling himself it was something magic, that's why it hurt so much. Otherwise he probably wouldn't even feel it. At least, that's what he told himself.

“You alright?” Percival asked, glancing at the way Gwaine slouched over the horse's neck. 

“Nothing a little supper and sleep won't fix.” He answered, but he didn't protest when Percival took the reins from his hands and tied them to his own saddle. Gwaine's horse didn't mind following, and Gwaine let his head rest against the horse's neck as he pressed his hand against the wound. It was bleeding, but slowly. Apparently the skin had broken, but not too badly. Not near as badly as it felt. 

They rode for a ways longer until Percival stopped the horses. Gwaine pushed himself up and looked around, his eyes following Percival's gaze to the stones that were laying on the ground. Percival slid easily off of his horse and went to them, kicking the three stones apart so it wasn't such a clear sign, before getting back on his horse and turning them right. Gwaine didn't even see the small cave until Percival dismounted again and moved to help Gwaine. Gwaine shook his head and slid off, a lot less gracefully, and cringed as he hit the ground. It shouldn't hurt like it did. Definitely some nasty magic, but nothing that he couldn't handle.

“I'll tie the horses elsewhere and come back. Go see to Merlin.” It was clear that Percival was trying to get Gwaine to sit, to rest, but Gwaine didn't argue. He nodded and Percival took off. Gwaine walked slowly to the entrance, covered by vines and partially blocked by the trunk of a large oak tree. He scooted in and immediately stopped at the cold metal on his throat. He glanced to the side, saw the queen, and sighed.

“I want to be angry, but it's what I would do.”

“I know how to take care of myself.”

“I'm not doubting that, Highness. Could you put it away for now, though? I think I'm damaged enough.”

“I was starting to think you wouldn't make it.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Queen Amethyst put the blade down and backed away, returning to a spot beside Merlin that she'd obviously claimed as her own. She picked up a bowl and began stirring it, an activity she'd clearly been doing for a while. Gwaine went to Merlin's other side and allowed himself to slide down the wall, cringing as he did so.

“What happened to you?” The queen asked, although her voice expressed more concern than Gwaine had expected.

“Magic something or other. I'll be fine.”

“Let me look.”

“Merlin's first.”

“There's little else I can do for him now. I applied an ointment, but there's not much I can do with my limited resources. He should hold until Camelot, though.” She set the bowl down and stood, walking to Gwaine.

“It's nothing. Hardly even bled.”

“That doesn't mean anything.”

“I'm _fine_.” Gwaine muttered, but she sat down in front of him and stared hard.

“Take off your shirt.”

“Hey now, we just met-”

“I'm not in the mood for jokes right now, please.”

Gwaine nodded and used his left arm to pull the shirt off, sucking in a breath as he moved his shoulder. He was dismayed when he saw the dark mark, almost a perfect circle, setting where the pain began, with dark lines tracing the veins that passed. It wasn't too bad yet, but one glance at the queen and they both knew it would get worse. 

“You'll need to see your physician when we return. Does he...” She looked at him through her lashes, conveying her meaning without words. Does he know magic. Not something she would want to know, but something that was apparently necessary to heal his wound.

“I don't know.” Gwaine answered after a pause. She frowned and sat back, her eyes not leaving the ugly mark on Gwaine's shoulder. 

“Would you like me to pose?” He asked after a moment of silence. 

“No. Sorry.” She said quietly. “I was thinking.”

“About what?”

Her eyes flicked to the floor before they met his. “About my husband.”

“And you stare at another man's chest for that?”

She laughed, a beautiful, melodious laugh that had Gwaine spellbound. “I wasn't staring, I was... just thinking. Sorry.” But the smile didn't fall off of her face, and Gwaine found his face mirroring that smile.

“Thank you for taking care of Merlin.” he said quietly.

“He's very important to you.”

“To everyone at Camelot. Especially Arthur.” When she frowned, he shook his head. “Don't you give me that. You don't know him, he's a good man.”

The queen's eyes drifted to Merlin, then to Gwaine's shoulder. “I can see that.” Her voice was dripping sarcasm, and Gwaine rolled his eyes.

“You'll know when you meet him. He's not his father.”

“I suspect not.”

“He's doing his best. He can't help it that we get into trouble without him.”

“I'm aware-”

“You can't judge him based on this! This is the work of Morgana, not Arthur.”

“They were raised in the same home, how can you be sure-”

“They are nothing alike.” Gwaine's words were a snarl, defensive like a dog to his master. “Arthur wants the best for Camelot, whatever that may be. He loves his people, his kingdom, and his _friends_. Don't you dare-”

“I'll hold off judgment until we get to Camelot.” She said quickly, raising her hands. “Or at least, I'll try. But from what I've seen in the past-”

“Just... he's a good man, alright?” Gwaine sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, frowning as the pain throbbed. 

“You both fight hard for him.” She noted.

“He deserves it.”

There was a moment of silence in which Gwaine struggled to deal with the pain in his shoulder, unaware of what the queen was doing. He heard Percival come in, heard the queen draw her knife on him, and then heard her quiet apology. Percival, of course, took it graciously, muttering something about being glad she was there. Gwaine wasn't awake much longer than that. It was good to know that the knight had returned, and he knew Percival would insist upon taking watch, anyway. So he saved them all time by letting himself drift off.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really like this chapter, for whatever reason. Thanks for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

Merlin woke to whispering over him, and a quiet chuckle. He listened to the chatter for a while, but soon he heard shuffling as another voice joined the conversation. Then the voices faded, and Merlin was left in the quiet again.

He didn't feel as awful now as he had, although he still didn't feel good, by any means. Everywhere hurt, but it had lessened to a throbbing pain, instead of stabbing. He supposed he had the queen to thank, although he hadn't expected clean rags to do that much for him. He knew that the wounds had been deep and very infected, he'd thought at least medicine. But he'd never been that great a physician, so it was entirely possible that it hadn't been as bad as he thought.

He struggled to open his eyes for a long time before it actually happened. When he did, he was met with brown stone over his head instead of the canvas he'd grown to expect. He frowned and turned his head, flinching at even that small moment but grateful when he didn't find guards or Morgana. There was Percival just leaving the cave with the queen, both carrying bundles of what Merlin assumed were supplies they'd gathered. He smiled faintly. He wasn't trapped anymore, at least. With time, he'd be strong enough to help Arthur.

“Merlin.” Gwaine's voice pulled Merlin's gaze to the other side, where he saw the knight's half smile. “You feeling alright?”

“Could be better.”

“Ah, I know what you mean.” He gave Merlin a bigger smile as Merlin frowned. “What, did you think you were the only one allowed to take one for the team?”

“What?”

“It's not much, Morgana got me good while we were getting out.” Merlin's eyes moved to the way he held his right arm across his lap, his left pressing against his right shoulder. Merlin's frown deepened as he waited to learn more. Gwaine's eyes were on the mouth of the cave, and he waited a moment before continuing. “Her Highness thinks it's magic, can only be fixed with magic. So you can fix it once you're better, yeah?”

Merlin's frown didn't lessen, and Gwaine seemed to know he wasn't off the hook. He sighed and shrugged. “There's not much else I can do, and I figure I can last until you're ready. Don't worry about it, it'll slow your healing, which then slows _my_ healing, and I have some ass to kick.”

Merlin chuckled and regretted it instantly.

“We'll be back at Camelot soon. Gaius will fix you, you'll fix me, we'll take down Morgana and her army. Then we can go back to our normal lives.”

“Joy.” Merlin cracked a grin at Gwaine, who laughed.

“I'll tell Arthur to ease up on you a bit. He won't listen, but at least I'll have tried.”

“You?”

Merlin didn't have to say more for Gwaine to understand the question. “I won't need it easy, I'm fine. Besides, we'll have a war to fight when we get home. I can't afford to take a day off.”

Merlin frowned, but before the conversation continued Amethyst walked back into the cave. She'd obviously taken a bit of time to sort out her appearance; her hair was freshly washed, although it still bore the knots it had accumulated, and she was wearing a pair of pants and a loose shirt. Merlin had no idea where she'd gotten them, and he didn't feel the need to ask. She probably wanted to look like a decent human being when she was introduced to Camelot's court, even if it was after a good time of being a prisoner.

“Merlin, you're awake.” Her smile was genuine as she lowered herself to the floor next to him. She put a hand on his forehead and frowned. “Still have a fever, but it's not so bad as before. Do you think you're good until Camelot?”

Merlin nodded.

“Good. You'll be riding with me, if that's alright.”

“I wanted to ride with you.” Amethyst turned to give Gwaine a firm look.

“You get to ride on your own, as far as you're able. We're trying not to wear the horses out before we get back.”

“Yeah, alright.” Merlin was surprised by how quickly Gwaine backed down. It must be bothering him worse than he let on. Of course it was. It was Gwaine.

“Good. Percival's agreed to take the reins, if that's agreeable to you.”

“I can control my own horse.” She stared at Gwaine for a good moment before he seemed to wilt. “Yeah, I know. Not really. But I had to put up a bit of fight.”

“We don't have time for that right now.” She said quietly. “But I understand. Thank you for being understanding.”

“Of course.”

Percival came in at that moment, stretching his arms. “We're ready, if you are.” He said quietly. Amethyst nodded.

“The goal is to be quiet, because obviously we only have one fighter and two hurt men. So no idle conversation.”

“I don't think you have to worry abut that.” At Merlin's words, the queen smiled.

“Are you ready?”

“Might as well.” Merlin answered. Percival was helping Gwaine to stand, which seemed to be difficult for the knight. Once he was up, however, Gwaine seemed fine, if a little shaky. Percival came to Merlin next.

“Careful.” Amethyst said quietly, and Percival nodded as he knelt.

Merlin nodded when the large knight paused, clearly asking if it was alright. Percival gently put his hands around Merlin's shoulders and under his knees, lifting through the pain on Merlin's face. It was a little difficult, maneuvering through the small entrance carrying Merlin, but he manged it with minimal jostling. Merlin was glad, despite the pain: it could have been a lot worse. Percival was always really good at minding others, observing and reacting accordingly. He waited for Amethyst to get into the saddle before lifting Merlin up, and the pain really flashed through him as Amethyst wrapped her arms around his waist, despite how gentle she was trying to be. It wasn't her fault that most of his body was cut and torn right now, and he kept that in mind as he tried to school his features into some semblance of normal.

She noticed, of course, but she whispered, “Thanks,” in his ear as they settled in a somewhat comfortable position. Merlin nodded, his jaw clenched and his fingers tight in their lock on his pants. Percival handed her the cloak she'd used the night before and she draped it over them again, concealing herself.

Merlin didn't turn to look when Gwaine had to be helped onto his horse. Gwaine wouldn't want it, and he was too busy dealing with his own pain to ogle at the knight's. Finally everyone was settled, and they started to move. Merlin tried not to cringe very often, but it was difficult. He could feel Amethyst's hands loosen their hold every time he did so, and he hated that he was causing her discomfort. But then again, there wasn't anything he could do about it. Wincing was a subconscious reaction to pain, the body attempting to keep itself from further hurt. That's what Gaius had told him, and so every time he couldn't stop the movement, he reminded himself that it wasn't his fault.

No one spoke. They had ridden for about half the day when Gwaine quietly asked them to stop. The strain in his voice was clear even to Merlin, who was half out of it. Percival handed his reins to Amethyst before leaping to the ground and going to his friend. There was a quiet conversation, and Merlin didn't catch any of it, but he knew what it was. Gwaine was ashamed, he knew, that he wasn't sure he could keep himself on the horse anymore. Asking for help was probably one of the worst things that could happen to the knight.

Merlin must have lost consciousness for a minute, because the next thing he knew Percival had pulled himself onto Gwaine's horse and tied his own to the saddle. They were off again. Percival rode next to them, and Merlin could see the sweat covering Gwaine's face and could hear the constant stream of curses he muttered. Merlin expected Amethyst to scold him, but it seemed she had developed something of a soft spot for Gwaine. Or maybe it was just that he was hurt. Merlin wondered if he could get away with the same, but just the thought made him cringe. It was too much work to do so. But apparently it was how Gwaine managed his pain, so Merlin wouldn't say anything.

The ride continued to be very quiet. Too quiet. Merlin noticed how alert Percival was, watching the trees around them with wary eyes. Merlin agreed that it was strange, although it was too difficult to focus on his surroundings. It was a good thing he trusted Percival.

They stopped briefly not long after. It was a process, getting both Gwaine and Merlin off the horses, but once it was done Amethyst quickly found something they could eat in the bushes around them and Percival made sure the area was clear. Merlin didn't want to eat; pain had wiped away all appetite he had, but he knew in order to heal he needed nutrition. So he allowed Amethyst to help him eat, but after a few bites he felt ready to heave it all up again.

“We'll try again later.” Amethyst said quietly. “It's normal. You'll gain an appetite soon.”

Merlin nodded. Percival wasn't having as much luck with Gwaine. The knight looked green at the sight of food, which was a sure sign that he was really struggling with the pain. After a while, Percival ate what he needed and put the rest away, for later that night. They were moving slowly now, trying to keep from exhausting the horses. They wouldn't make it back to Camelot until tomorrow, at the earliest. Probably not until late tomorrow.

When they returned to the horses, they switched riders. Percival sat with Merlin on Gwaine's horse, Gwaine and Amethyst returned to hers. Percival was concerned that having two heavier riders was slowing them down more than necessary, and Amethyst readily agreed. Percival's arms were not so gentle, but Merlin didn't say anything. It wasn't anyone's fault. Besides, it wasn't so bad. He could manage.

Gwaine was as close to curled up as he could be on a horse, his eyes clenched. Merlin wished he had the magic to help, but there was nothing he could do. Not yet. He had to heal a bit more before he risked using that kind of power. Just a bit longer, maybe a day in bed and he could fix Gwaine. He'd be laid up at least an extra few days because of it, but Arthur needed all of his knights to fight this battle. Merlin could hobble along the walls, if need be. He'd make it work.

The ride continued to be quiet, but after a while longer Percival made them stop. He was staring at the trees, obviously straining his ears. Amethyst did the same, and Gwaine made the effort to look up and around.

“We've been followed.” Percival hardly said the words when an arrow flew past his ear. His horse reared and, though Percival somehow managed to keep both himself and Merlin on the horse, he couldn't stop it from taking off into the trees and losing the second horse in the process. Percival ducked low to the horse, his body curled protectively around Merlin as the horse took them... somewhere. It had turned away from the direction of Camelot, and was treading wildly through the trees. Percival had completely given up trying to control it, more concerned with an attack or losing Merlin. Merlin was too busy keeping himself from losing consciousness as they plowed forward, the rough ground not helping provide an easy ride on the back of the wild horse.

Merlin didn't know if there were arrows flying past them. He didn't know if there were men following them. He didn't even know if Percival was still in one piece. He was only aware of the pulsing pain through his body and the sound of hoof beats beneath him. It was none too soon when the horse finally settled enough for Percival to take control, and he immediately pulled the frightened mare into a complete stop and sitting straight. His arms were still tight around Merlin, and the boy wasn't sure if that was good or bad. On the one hand, it hurt so badly he wasn't sure how much longer he could take it. On the other, he was so jostled he wasn't sure he could keep on the horse.

“Are you alright?” Percival asked after a moment, relaxing a minuscule amount.

“Alive.” Merlin muttered.

“Good.” Percival was silent for a moment. Merlin hoped he knew where they were. He hoped that Gwaine and Amethyst had managed to follow. But the silence told him they hadn't. And the fact that Percival didn't move the horse told him he didn't.

“We should go back.” Merlin managed after another moment.

“I don't think that's a good idea.”

Merlin wanted to argue, but there just wasn't any arguing with Percival. The knight had a good head about him, and he wouldn't make decisions rashly. Gwaine would go rushing in, and Arthur would probably follow. Percival took the time to think about the best course of action. So while he hated it, he didn't argue. Percival slid easily from the saddle, immediately turning to keep Merlin on the horse's back. He lead the horse from there, looking around, figuring out which direction they were facing. After a while, he turned the horse and started forward, walking in the direction Merlin assumed Camelot lay. He just lay against the horse's neck, praying they'd get to Camelot by tomorrow. He was too tired to go much longer, he just wanted a bed, or a floor, somewhere he was safe and on the mend.

They didn't stop overnight, and Percival never got back in the saddle. Merlin knew he was trying to save the horse, in case they had to make a hard run back to Camelot, but he was worried that the knight was putting himself through too much and exhausting himself in the process. Not that Merlin had a better idea. They couldn't stop somewhere open, not when they'd been followed before. There was no doubt that there were still people looking for them. Unless, of course, they'd been after the queen.

It was early morning when Merlin almost fell from the horse. Percival caught him in time, but it was a sign that, while he didn't want to stop, he didn't have a choice. Merlin needed a break, to rest and eat. Percival didn't want to admit that he did, but it would only hurt them both.

Percival tied Merlin to the horse until he found a small spot in a dense patch of trees that would at least give them some protection from unwanted eyes. He laid Merlin down, and the boy thanked him quietly. Percival knew that, although it seemed rather forced, it was genuine. Merlin was working through the pain, as best as he could. He shouldn't have to deal with it, and it made him angry, but he knew better than to let those emotions overtake him and cloud his judgment.

Percival was quiet as he pulled the food leftover from the day before out of his pack. It wasn't the prettiest to look at anymore, but it would serve them just fine. He didn't want to leave Merlin to go looking for anything, and hunting was definitely out of the question. It was just too dangerous for that right now, so they'd have to make do with what they had left. He'd have to be on the lookout for food as well as danger when they continued.

Merlin was also quiet. Percival kept glancing over at his friend, but Merlin seemed almost completely out of it. That was no surprise; he'd been through a lot recently, and that kind of pace... he was honestly surprised that Merlin wasn't writhing in pain. Percival knew what that kind of pain felt like, and it was hard for him, as a knight, to retain his composure. Merlin was much stronger than any of them gave him credit for.

He'd watched the Queen feeding Merlin the day before, and he tried to mimic her as much as possible. Merlin gave him a weak smile when he declined anymore, and Percival nodded. He finished off what they had, which was no where near enough, and sat next to Merlin, his eyes open and his ears alert.

He thought Merlin had fallen asleep, so he was startled when Merlin spoke up.

“Are you sure we shouldn't have gone back?” The words were quiet, tired and pained, but Merlin wouldn't be satisfied until he got an answer.

“It would have taken too long to get back. By the time we would have, they would have been gone. And we probably would have found more trouble than I could handle on the way.”

Merlin nodded. “Do you think they're safe?”

Percival thought before he spoke. “Yes. That Queen, she's strong. She wouldn't let them take her again.”

“But Gwaine...”

Percival didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't. Merlin seemed to understand. They couldn't know what happened, but they'd find out once they returned to Camelot. Hopefully. All they could do was make their way home and hope Gwaine and the Queen were doing the same.

“Thanks.” Merlin said after a moment.

“For?”

“Coming.”

Percival nodded. “You needed help. Gwaine wouldn't have made it on his own.”

“He's too hot-headed.” Merlin said quietly, with a small smile on his face. Percival returned it and nodded.

“We'd never leave you there, Merlin.”

Merlin accepted that in silence. Sometimes he didn't feel like he fit in, but Percival would always accept him, as he knew many of Arthur's closest knights would.

“Camelot...?”

Percival sighed. “Preparing for war, when we were there. Arthur was dying of worry.”

Merlin chuckled. “Doubtful.”

“Well, as good as. He feels guity.”

“He shouldn't.”

“Any of us would.”

“I told him to.”

“I know.”

Merlin sighed heavily. It was always difficult, dealing with Arthur. He imagined it was awful right about now. He drifted off to sleep thinking of all the things that were probably being left undone in Arthur's chambers, vowing that he would not be the one to do it. Percival was safety next to him, even though they were in woods probably swarming with enemies. The knight drifted off a few times, but whenever he silently woke the small camp was still safe. The light filtering through the trees made him drowsy, and the stillness of this place made him feel disconnected from all the terrible things that were happening elsewhere in the world.

M.M.M

Arthur didn't sleep that night. He had been sleeping poorly for a while, ever since Gwen had been kidnapped, but it had worsened when Gwaine had set out for Merlin. He had hoped they would have been back days ago, so Merlin could be resting and his knights could be helping him work through strategies.

It was strange, though, that the enemy hadn't moved more than it had. He'd gotten the reports that the camp was moving, slowly, closer to Camelot, but usually enemies didn't let him watch their movements. Morgana was planning something, and he didn't know what to think. He needed someone to look at it without the tired, strained eyes that Arthur had been using for so long. But there was no one like that in Camelot anymore, not after so many meetings and so much training.

He needed Merlin back. He spent all night pacing, looking at Merlin's bed. He'd been in here a lot recently, because it had been the only place he could get away from the war and let down his guard. But tonight, there was nothing that could calm him down. He didn't know what about it was different.

He sat on the bed. He'd grown used to the stiffness of it, and now it was difficult to feel comfortable in the plushness of his own bed. Gwen protested, at first, but she'd let him be when she realized how much he needed something simple.

With a sigh, he stood. He couldn't sit anymore, it was too late in the morning. There were too many demands on his time, and he needed to change out of yesterday's clothes first. He patted the bed once on his way out, passing Gaius without a word. They'd reached an understanding. Neither said anything when he left in the morning, because Arthur didn't need anything else to deal with.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've apparently decided to make up for my short hiatus with chapter after chapter after chapter. Sorry, not sorry? I do apologize for my sporadic nature, but to be honest I've never really gone this long with a story before, so it's weird for me. But thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed! Arthur will (eventually) get more page time, there's just not a whole lot to do with him right now. Please forgive me?


	16. Chapter 16

Amethyst watched the Percival and Merlin disappear and cursed. She pushed her horse, hard, doing her best to maneuver toward Camelot. It was difficult with Gwaine in front of her, and her horse was already tiring from the extra weight. She heard the shouts behind her, crows of triumph as they found their prey. She begged the horse to push harder, for her, just until they could lose their followers, but the mare was already giving her all she could.

“Leave me.” Gwaine muttered. Amethyst barely heard him over the panting of her horse and the beating of her heart, but when she processed his words she shook her head vehemently.

“I don't leave anyone behind, especially wounded men.”

“What if I pretend to be a woman?”

His humor would have been funny to her, if they weren't in such a serious situation and he wasn't suggesting such an awful thing. “Shut up, knight, you're coming with me to Camelot.”

“Yes ma'am.” His voice was softer. She frowned. She didn't like his compliance, but there were more important things to deal with now, and honestly it was easier. She would ask him later if he always gave in to women so easily, or if it was just because he was half-dead.

She pushed her mare into a hard right and kept racing. An arrow flew past her head and she pulled the horse back to the left. She glanced back at the pack following; at least five men, if not more. She couldn't tell, and she didn't have time to sit and stare.

“Go straight.” Gwaine muttered.

“What?”

“Straight. I know where we are.”

Amethyst wanted to argue, but she knew this wasn't the time. She knew where they were too, and she didn't think straight was the best choice. But she had to trust Gwaine, because she had no clue how they were going to lose these guys otherwise.

She grimaced as an arrow grazed her shoulder, ripping through the cloak easily. It wasn't deep, she would be fine, but it burned. She gripped the reins tighter in her hands, needing an out before she was too hurt to steer their horse. One of them needed to be functioning, and right now Gwaine could do little but mutter directions at her.

She could see the reason she didn't want to take this path as the trees broke into a clearing. The horse ran on dirt now, but soon that dirt would change into stone, just before the cliff that dropped into a gorge. They'd have to go next to it, in the open air, with men with bows chasing them. She knew it was difficult to shoot a bow on horseback, but they were doing pretty well with the cover of trees. In open air, they wouldn't stand a chance.

“Straight.” Gwaine muttered.

“There's a cliff there, we'll-”

“We're going down.”

If it was an option, Amethyst would have stopped the horse right there and scolded him for being such an idiot. But as that wasn't an option, she settled for gripping the reins tighter and demanding, “Excuse me? If I wanted to die, I would just turn around.”

“Trust me.”

The way he said those words... she nodded, and even though he couldn't see that she knew he felt her acceptance in the way her body relaxed.

“If we die...”

“You can kill me.”

Oh, she could hear the smirk in his voice, and it made her grin. Her heart pounding, she pushed the horse straight for the gorge. She had no idea how they were getting down, because she didn't plan to risk the horse, but for some reason, she trusted the roguish knight.

Another arrow flew past them and embedded itself in the horse's flank. The horse whined spectacularly, but kept going. Amethyst prayed that it was a minor wound, that the horse would be fine after a little time, but she kept pushing it. She couldn't afford to slow down to take care of the mare right now.

The reached the edge, and Gwaine pulled her off the horse. Before she knew what was happening, she was falling, hardly able to see the horse rearing as it stopped itself. She wanted to scream, but it got caught in her throat. Gwaine was still holding her, rotating them so he would hit first, and she let it happen. She thought her stomach must be about to leave her body, but otherwise falling wasn't so bad. Terrifying, but also strangely peaceful. And then she heard the splash and felt the freezing cold water surrounding them. She had hardly got the chance to take a deep breath before she was completely submerged. Gwaine pulled her downstream, letting the current help him. It was only a little while before he stopped, his arms falling away from her. She began pushing back towards the surface, thinking this was a strangely deep stream. She broke through into fresh air and took a deep breath, panting, staring up. But up was obscured by a large rock, completely blocking both their view of the enemies and their enemies ability to shoot them. She turned to find Gwaine, but he hadn't broken the surface yet. She immediately dove back under, easily finding the mop of brown hair a few feet below. She grabbed his arm and hauled him up, pulling him to the only patch of dry land she could see.

It was clear that he wasn't breathing. She panicked for only a few seconds before forcing herself to get it together. In theory, she knew how to get him breathing again. She'd never actually had to put this into practice, though, and that was a source of fear for her. Still, she began the process of ridding his lungs of the water and forcing him to breathe. His heart was almost stopped, and she needed to get him breathing again, she didn't want to try to bring him back from the dead.

She pressed her lips to his and pushed air into his lungs. Four deep breaths, just like she'd been taught.

“Come on, Gwaine.” She muttered as she pulled away. She watched his chest, desperately hoping it would move, before placing her lips back against his and repeating the process. The second pause felt longer, but after a moment he started to cough. She gently turned his head to the side and watched as he coughed up the water, taking in gasping breaths. Amethyst felt her body relax too suddenly and she sat hard, running a hand through her hair and cringing as it got caught in the knots. Gwaine rolled over and expelled the remaining water before he dropped, hard, onto the ground.

“Ouch.” He muttered.

Amethyst began to laugh. She always did this; relief made her giddy, and she started laughing. It wasn't acceptable in this situation, Gwaine could have other injuries, but at least he was _breathing_. She never would have forgiven herself if he'd died there.

“You think it's funny?” He asked, not getting up. His breath was raspy, but seemed to hold less pain than it had before their chase.

“Sorry, I just... sorry.” She chuckled a bit more before her laugh completely subsided and she could explain. “Relief makes me laugh.”

“You were relieved?”

“You didn't die. I didn't die. It was a shock and I was relieved.”

Gwaine chuckled and instantly started to cough again. Amethyst moved to kneel next to him, helping him to sit up and lean against the hard stone wall behind them. 

“Thanks.” He muttered.

“Have you jumped in here before?”

“What?”

“How did you know we would live through that?”

“I was half sure we would.”

“Only half?”

“That's better than our odds up there.”

“Fine. Have you done it before?”

“Yes.”

Amethyst just grinned at him. “Somehow I'm not surprised.”

“The roguish charm give it away?”

“You're that knight Arthur found in a tavern, right?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“I'm pretty sure he let that slip last time I was there.”

“Now how does he expect foreign kingdoms to respect the knights when he gives away all our secrets?”

“You shouldn't talk.” Amethyst said, remembering that he'd almost _drowned_ and he probably needed to rest. Not to mention... “Take off your shirt.”

“Again? Can't get enough?”

“Should I take it off for you?”

Gwaine paused for a moment before he began to move, tugging at his shirt with his left hand. He flinched before he got far, and Amethyst got closer and took the shirt from him, gently maneuvering his arm through the sleeve and pulling it over his head. She folded it before she set it down and looked at Gwaine's shoulder.

The black had spread, creating dark lines all across his chest and down his rib cage. It looked a lot worse than it had before. She frowned and gently touched it, but winced as she felt pain and pulled her fingers away quickly.

“I'll be fine.”

“Don't you start with me. Lean forward.”

Gwaine did as she asked, and she could already see the bruises forming on his back. That was going to be awful. She carefully ran her fingers over the flesh, but she didn't feel anything too broken. Once she was satisfied, she pulled away and sat in front of Gwaine.

“Can we make it back to Camelot?” He asked, one corner of his lips quirking up.

“If your shoulder doesn't get much worse.” She was serious. If it kept spreading at the rate it was, they wouldn't stand a chance. She hoped it would stop itself, perhaps even withdraw a bit, but she knew better than to expect it. Her luck wasn't that good. Really, it wasn't good at all.

“I'll be fine.”

“I don't remember knights being so good at lying.”

“What?”

“Always with 'I'm fine.' Clearly you're not. Why do you do that?”

Gwaine chuckled, which made Amethyst a little angry. But she kept her cool as she waited for him to give an explanation, hoping it was as funny as he seemed to think.

“Merlin. That's something Merlin always says. I guess we picked it up as well.”

“Is he really around you that much?”

“You'd be surprised. Arthur can't go anywhere without him.”

Amethyst was quiet for a moment. “He really is different.”

“I told you he was.”

“You did. I still have to meet him, to be sure, but...” Amethyst shook her head. “I said you shouldn't talk. You should rest.”

“Not tired.”

“Gwaine, please-”

“Couldn't if I wanted to. I'm... worried.”

Amethyst nodded. “I am, as well. But we have to make it back, get that,” she looked pointedly at Gwaine's shoulder. “Taken care of.”

“I'm not sure how you plan to find a sorcerer in Camelot.”

“There have to be a few around.”

“You met Uther. You saw what he did. If there are, they won't come forward to help a knight and a queen.”

“But... you need help-”

“So did they.”

“There must be someone there, there are good sorcerers.”

“How would you know?”

Amethyst caught her lip in her teeth and looked down. “I... I just do, alright? I know it's been drilled into your brains that all sorcerers are evil, but I've met some who were good, who wanted the best for the people around them.”

“Me too. Just wondered who yours was.”

“Mine?”

“Your sorcerer.”

Amethyst looked into Gwaine's eyes, so deeply brown and so open. He wasn't trying to catch her, she decided. He really did have a sorcerer friend, and he really was just curious. She'd grown used to guarding the secret, but it would feel so nice to tell someone.

“Tell me yours first.”

Gwaine chuckled. “So it's true.” He pushed himself upright a little more, cringing but refusing Amethyst's offered hand. “You've met him.”

She frowned. “I doubt that.”

“He's rather unassuming. You wouldn't guess it from him.”

Her frown deepend. “Just tell me. Please.”

“Merlin.”

Amethyst stared at Gwaine for a moment. “ _Merlin?_ ”

“My reaction was... similar.”

“Why didn't he save himself, then? He could have escaped-”

“When he went to the camp, he was looking for Gwen with Arthur. But he'd been stabbed a week or so before, and I assume that was affecting how well he could control his magic. Plus he was just really tired.”

“Arthur took him when he was wounded?” She felt the anger swelling up again at the inconsiderate king of Camelot, but Gwaine didn't let her seethe for long.

“He was distraught. The only person he implicitly trusts is Merlin, and with a rat in the castle he had to take someone he could trust. And, like I said, he can't go anywhere without the kid. So don't get angry at him, and tell me yours.”

Amethyst opened her mouth to argue, but closed it. There was no point. Gwaine was eternally loyal to his king, it seemed, and she was unwilling to recognize the king as a decent human being until he proved it himself. So she sighed and looked at her hands. “I didn't know he was, when we met. I was still very anti-magic, then, on a rampage to destroy it all. So he didn't tell me until... well, that's why I wasn't there, when he died. I'd had to leave, clear my head.”

“Who?”

“Jeremy. My husband.”

Gwaine stared at her for a minute. “Did you ever forgive him?” His voice was quiet.

“I... I think so. I've not been able to crack down on magic like I used to, anyway. Knowing that he was there, suffering right under my nose... it really changed how I looked at sorcerers. But someone must have known, I'm sure that's why they killed him. He wasn't worthy, or they were afraid he'd change my views, or...”

“Come here.”

Amethyst looked up at Gwaine, at his open, accepting brown eyes, and did as he asked. She sat next to him, curling up against him. He wrapped his left arm around her shoulders and held her close, pretending not to notice as her shoulders shook with tears she'd hardly allowed herself to shed. She hadn't been able to, she'd been so angry at him initially, and then it was too late, she had to be strong for her people... with Gwaine, though, she cried. Gwaine didn't comment on how it hurt to stretch his arm with the bruises and the magic wound, nor on how wet she was getting his bare chest with her tears.

To her, it felt like hours before she finished sobbing all over the knight, even though she knew it had probably only been minutes. She wiped her dirty sleeve across her eyes and sat back, looking at the ground. She shouldn't have done that. She knew she shouldn't let weakness take her in front of anyone, especially those not in her kingdom. 

“You've got a little...” Gwaine muttered, and she looked up. He gently wiped what she supposed must be dirt from her sleeve off of her cheek. “He must have been something special.”

“He was. But we need to talk about getting out of here, if you insist upon talking.”

“Are you okay?”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“I don't know, Highness, something tells me if you're not alright you won't think straight.”

There was a joke in his voice, but beneath that was a deep sympathy. Amethyst sighed. She wasn't good at being a person, she was good at being a queen. But she answered, “I'm as okay as I'll ever be. Can we talk about how we're getting out of here now?”

“It shallows out close by Camelot. We'll be able to climb out there.”

“Granted your arm works at all then.”

“It's really shallow.”

“And... are we swimming there?”

“No.” Gwaine pointed with his left hand to a cave a little farther to the right. “There's a cave there that comes out about half a day away, and beyond that the river is narrow with land on either side.”

“How many times have you been down here?”

“Only a few.” The smirk on his face said he'd done it quite a few more times than he admitted, and it made Amethyst smile. 

“I'll have to learn to live with your lies.” 

“They're part of my charm.” He closed his eyes, clenching his left fist as the right lay lax. 

“It doesn't seem to be as painful now.” The queen noted, watching him take a few deep breaths before opening his eyes.

“Either that, or I'm getting used to it. I'm not complaining, either way.”

She was a little more worried than he was; the fact that he didn't seem to be doing anything with his right arm spoke of numbness, not relief, and that could lead to a lot of trouble later on. While she was glad they were both safe, she was concerned that something would happen and she wouldn't have anyway to find help. But there was little to be done for that now, so she focused on creating a plan of action.

“Let's stay here tonight. I'll try to catch some fish or something.”

“You?” Gwaine chuckled. She turned to him with her eyebrows raised, daring him to challenge her ability.

“Why not me?”

“I just... you're a queen.”

“Is your queen unable to provide for herself?” She demanded.

“Well, no, but-”

“But she was a servant. However, in Amira, royalty get their hands dirty just as often as it's lowest citizens. So, yes, I can take care of myself. And maybe even you.”

“Whoa there, Highness, I get it.” Gwaine gave her a crooked smile.

“And my name isn't 'Highness.' It's Amethyst.”

“Alright, I'm sorry. Just didn't want to get too formal.”

Amethyst stared at him for a moment. “Highness is formal?”

“Well, it's better than what Arthur gets.”

The corners of Amethyst's lips quirked up. “What do you call him?”

“Princess.”

Amethyst burst out laughing at that, and Gwaine chuckled as well. When she finally caught her breath and the laughter had died down, she asked, “Do you even know what it means to be formal?”

“I admit, I'm not good at it.”

“Sorry.”

“What for?”

“I've been rather... harsh, with you.”

“You've been a perfect princess.”

“Is that a reference to your king, or is it actually supposed to be a compliment?”

She shared the smile with Gwaine, who was starting to look tired. She should let him sleep. Well, she should order him to sleep, since asking wasn't the way to go. Apparently. 

“Get some sleep. I'm going to take a look around and figure out supper.” Amethyst began to stand, brushing off the dirt from her already dirty clothes. She paused when Gwiane muttered.

“I don't want to sleep until you're back.”

“I'll be fine, I already told you-”

“Just to be safe, alright? I'm not doubting your ability, I just want to make sure-”

Amethyst turned toward him and gave him a quick kiss, pulling away and saying, “Now that we've got that out of the way, get some rest and we can discuss how this relationship will work later. Once you've had a chance to accept I'm just as strong as you.”

Gwaine grinned at her. “Yes ma'am.”

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter before weekend fun starts. Hope you all enjoyed, it was fun to write!


	17. Chapter 17

Percival was awake when he heard the voices.

Merlin was asleep, and Percival hoped he would stay that way. The boy didn't need the stress, and he was exhausted.

The knight stood, his hand on his sword, listening. They were coming straight for the small camp, and there seemed to be quite a few of them. The laughter made Percival frown; generally it part of the plan was to sneak up on the prey, catch them unaware.

“Percival?” Merlin's voice. Percival knelt next to his friend and listened.

“They're close. Getting closer.”

Merlin nodded. The thing about Merlin was he understood when it was really important to be quiet and let someone else do the work. Gwaine would have been fighting to help, pushing himself up even though he could hardly stand.

They were absolutely silent as the voices grew louder, and Percival's knuckles turned white as he clenched his sword. Anymore than than three or four and he would have no hope of keeping them off. The fact that he was trying to guard Merlin would only make him more vulnerable. If he knew that Merlin could get back to Camelot, he would lead them away and hope that, even if he was caught, Merlin would be fine. But there was no way that Merlin would be able to get home, in his condition, even with the horse.

He stood again and watched the direction the voices were coming from, completely still. Merlin did the same. Together they waited, what seemed to be days, for the voices to come closer.

When the first one walked into the small camp, he stopped dead and stared at Percival first, for a long moment, and then his eyes flicked to Merlin. They widened slightly at the obviously hideous state that Merlin was in, and then went back to Percival as he drew his sword.

“Hey now, easy.” He said quietly. He had wide brown eyes and long blonde hair braided down his back. He held his hands up, and the men he'd been talking to stumbled into him and followed his actions, glancing uneasily at Percival.

“Who are you?” Percival asked, his sword held straight in front of him as he stared the men down. Merlin wished he could be as intimidating as the large night was, but overall he was just glad that Percival was there to be intimidating. Merlin wouldn't have been able to manage it, even if it was possible.

“Just deserters, alright? Same as you, I'm sure.” He nodded at Merlin. “What happened to the kid?”

Percival didn't answer the question, so Merlin did. “Not exactly Morgana's friend, as it turns out.” He offered them a shrug and a half grin, cringing at the movement and hoping it wasn't too obvious. But apparently it was, because Percival knelt next to him and the man gave him a sympathetic look.

“Are any of us, really? Name's Bryce, these are Edmund, Gavin, and Doran. Doran's got a nasty limp from Morgana, so I'm sure he's empathetic. Not that the rest of us aren't. We're... deserters, I suppose. Although I'm not sure finding out you're not serving your queen makes you a deserter.”

“You're from Amira?” Percival asked.

“Yeah. Formerly knights. Now...”

“Still knights.” One of the other men spoke up. This one had black hair and brown eyes, with a nose that was a little crooked and very broad shoulders. He might have been intimidating like Percival, if he wasn't a good foot shorter. “Looking for our queen, trying to get the country in shape.”

“Yeah. Edmund's right. Still knights. Queen Amethyst has been missing for a little more than a month. We'd been told she was heading up the fight, with Morgana as her second. We learned a few days ago that she's been held prisoner.”

“We met her.” Percival said quietly, the tip of his sword lowering only a fraction. He wasn't feeling threatened by these men, then, but Merlin had to admit he still didn't trust them. It was possible that they were trying to lull Percival into a false sense of security before jumping. After all, Percival could deal them some serious damage.

“So you were part of the army, then?” Merlin watched all four of them reach subtly for their swords, readying themselves.

“Not exactly.” Percival answered.

“Then what?” Edmund spoke up again. Merlin watched his eyes jumping around the small camp, to Merlin and Percival, the horse grazing quietly a few feet away and back. Strategizing, probably.

“I was... captive.” Merlin finally answered, after too long of silence. “Percival got me out.”

“Percival... why does that name sound familiar?” Bryce looked the larger knight up and down, frowning. “You're not from Camelot, are you?”

Percival didn't answer, which seemed to be as much as a yes to the men. They stared for a moment before Edmund slowly smiled.

“You're going back to Arthur, then?”

“Yes.” Percival's sword lowered a bit more. The Amirans let their hands drop away from their weapons, their stances becoming more relaxed.

“We'd like to go with you, if that's alright.”

“Why?”

“We want to give your king a full report, see if he'll help us get our queen out.” Bryce explained, his eyes sparkling with what Merlin could only assume was happiness. He really wanted to save his queen, it seemed, in much that same way that Merlin was sure the knights of Camelot had wanted to save their king. He couldn't dislike someone with that kind of loyalty, even though it still seemed a little suspicious.

Percival sheathed his sword. “We'd welcome the help.” He offered a hand, and Bryce stepped forward to shake it. “I have to inform you, however, that your queen might not be with the enemy.”

Bryce frowned. “Where else would she be?”

“She was imprisoned with Merlin.” Percival gestured towards the boy, who was feeling tired from the interaction. “I had another knight with me when we went for Merlin. She was with us when we left, but we were separated.”

“So she's with your knight?”

“But he's hurt.”

There were glances passed between the Amirans, uneasy, conflicted, concerned. “Do you know where they are?”

Percival shook his head. “Our horse was scared and bolted. We were separated almost immediately.”

“I assume they would continue to Camelot?” Edmund asked, looking at the two in their group that hadn't spoken up.

“That was the plan.”

The four men looked at each other, spoke quiet words, and seem to come so some kind of agreement before Bryce returned his attention to Merlin and Percival. “We'll go with you, and trust our queen can make it to Camelot.”

Percival nodded, then knelt next to Merlin. “Are you ready?” He asked quietly. Merlin nodded, anxious to get home. Percival scooped him up, apologizing under his breath for the pain this caused, and gently put him on the horse. Merlin leaned heavily against the horse's neck, forcing himself to take deep breaths to settle his body.

“We can't make it tonight.” Percival said, noting the lack of horses for the others with them. Merlin was glad they were there, for safety's sake, but he really wished they could get back tonight. He needed to be back.

“We should be able to make it by midday tomorrow, though. If we go quickly.” Bryce responded. Percival nodded and began leading the horse, letting the others follow. Merlin could tell by the alert set of his shoulders that he was listening to the men behind him, expecting something to go wrong. Merlin knew Percival would be able to mount the horse quickly and take off, if something were to go wrong. The knight would keep them safe.

They traveled quietly all day. Percival would occasionally lead the horse off the path to pick something up and put it in a saddlebag. Merlin, for the most part, drifted in and out of wakefulness. Every time he woke, Percival was beside him, stoic as ever. The four men talked quietly amongst themselves, not excluding the Camelot men but also not encouraging them to participate. It seemed that, while they were very willing to travel with them, they didn't exactly trust them. That was fine, since Percival seemed to be of the same opinion.

When they finally camped for the night, Merlin couldn't keep his eyes open. He didn't even realize that Percival had lowered him from the horse and laid him down with a blanket for the night. He didn't realize he missed supper, nor that Percival and the other four men were quietly getting to know each other. He was only aware of his surroundings when he woke up gasping in the early morning, trying to pull in air and being completely unsuccessful. Percival immediately heard him struggling and was by his side, but he was at a completely loss as to what should be done for the boy.

“Just breathe, Merlin. Tell me what to do.” He muttered quietly, lifting Merlin's head slightly. But no matter how hard Merlin tried, he couldn't pull in enough oxygen to tell Percival what he needed. He knew, Gaius had needed it for him before and he'd done it for knights who were struggling, and it was almost as frustrating that he couldn't say it as having the problem in the first place.

“Here.” Merlin heard the voice, and immediately after he smelled the smoke that would help open his passageways and make breathing easier. He took deep breaths of it, and soon he felt as if he would be alright. He sank into sleep again.

Percival looked at the man who had helped. It was one of the two who hadn't voiced an opinion earlier; a blonde with green eyes and a wide face. He nodded as Percival thanked him and went back to his group on the other side of the camp, pulling his cloak over himself and returning to sleep. Percival leaned against the tree behind him, watching to for a few minutes more to make sure they were all asleep before he let himself drift.

M.M.M

Percival was nervous when they finally left the cover of trees on the final stretch to Camelot. He hated being so vulnerable to attack, unable to hide himself or his friend. It helped that there was a group of men that, in theory, would help him to stave off an attack, but he couldn't be certain. The night before they'd learned a lot about each other, but they could still be hiding something. Arthur would make the final call, and Percival would willingly go along with it. Until then, he would treat them with suspicion but no hostility.

Merlin was out. It seemed the exhaustion was too much for him now, and Percival was honestly surprised at how long he had lasted. The boy pushed himself on willpower alone, long past when a normal person would give up.

The castle was in view when Percival stopped suddenly as he heard a shout. He glanced around, saw the alarmed looks of the men with him, and drew his sword.

“It must be Morgana's men.” Bryce muttered. Percival nodded.

“Take the boy.” Bryce said, looking at the group of men in the distance. “He needs medical attention, and he needs someone to get him there.”

Percival shook his head. “I won't run.”

“We'll be right behind you. Just take the horse and get him back as soon as possible. If we haven't made it back, send reinforcements.”

Percival hated the idea of leaving, but he nodded, sheathed his sword, and leapt onto the horse, graceful as can be, and pushed it into a run. He glanced behind him to see the others running behind, but they were focused intently on the direction of the enemy at the same time. He vowed to be part of the party that returned and pushed the horse faster, clutching at Merlin in the hopes that it would lessen some of the shock of the horse's running. Merlin, though asleep, seemed to be feeling it as he made small whimpering noises. That only encouraged Percival to push harder, to get it over with quickly.

He could hear them behind him now; horses running, but mostly yells as they descended upon the four Amirans. Percival frowned, but forced himself to keep going. They were getting close now, the guards could no doubt see them racing. And sure enough, the gates were opened for them and the horse charge through, it's sides heaving.

“Percival!” Leon's voice. Percival slid to the ground and began untying Merlin and taking the boy into his arms. Percival started towards Gaius chambers as Leon matched his pace. “Where's Gwaine?”

“We got separated. There are four men from Amira out there that need help. I'll go when I've delivered Merlin, but get some men ready.”

Leon watched him for a minute, probably debating if he should get approval from Arthur first, before he nodded and turned, running towards the barracks. Percival barreled down the halls and, when he arrived, pushed the door open with a shoulder, carrying Merlin to the small bed by the fire.

“Percival-?” Gaius began, but when he saw Merlin he stopped what was about to be a chastisement and went to take care of his ward. Percival immediately left, running to help the Amirans.

Gaius set to work, removing Merlin's shirt and looking at the mess beneath. He was surprised to smell the faint odor of an ointment that was commonly used among less serious injuries, and wondered if Merlin had directed one of the knights in that. It was a good thing, whatever the case: There was still trace infection in some of the wounds, but most of it had been drawn out and neutralized. Still, there was still a threat, besides the fact that many of the makeshift bandages were damp with blood from broken scabs or wounds that had never completely healed. He'd held out well, in part because of the treatment he'd received, but it was still bad from all the exertion he'd put himself through. The physician didn't want to count the number of wounds on the boy, nor think too deeply about how he must have gotten them; he would hear explanations when Merlin woke up, and that would be bad enough without his imagination working overtime as well.

Gaius turned his attention to the stab wound in the boy's side. It seemed to be doing alright, considering it had obviously taken more abuse in the time he'd been away. Still, it seemed to have formed a decent scab and wasn't bleeding like many of the other cuts, so it could be put off until later.

Gaius had just begun mixing an ointment more potent than the one that had been used before, to burn out any lingering infection, when the door slammed open and Arthur walked in. His face broke into a small, relieved smile when he saw Merlin, even though there was concern in his eyes as he looked over the wounds.

“Gaius, he'll-?”

“Be fine, yes. He's had a little help, so the infection has been mostly cleaned out. He lost a lot of blood, but nothing he can't overcome, given time.”

Arthur nodded, running a hand through his hair. “But he'll be fine. Not his definition of fine, I hope?”

“No, sire. Perfectly healthy but scarred, in time.”

“Good. Good. I need to go-”

“You'll be found when he wakes. I doubt he'll want to stay here that long.”

“Make him. He has to take time to heal.”

“As you wish.”

“Good. I'll be back, just as soon as- Percival is riding out, I need to go-”

“Then go, sire. I assure you, he'll be here when you're finished.”

“Good. Thank you.” Arthur took one last long look at Merlin before he turned and left. He ran to his horse, which was waiting for him already in the courtyard, and mounted without stopping. There were other men waiting, and as soon as Arthur started his horse running after Percival they followed suit. Arthur was glad his horse was fast; he caught Percival before they made it to the enemy, where three men were fighting. There were quite a few bodies lying around them, including a few horses who had been unlucky enough to get caught be a sword. Arthur and Percival both charged forward, swords drawn, and attacked. There weren't even enough men to challenge Arthur and Percival, really, let alone the small army that Arthur had brought with him. It was a short time later when all of the enemy had either surrendered or been killed.

“You're the Amirans?” Arthur asked, looking down at the three men.

“Yes.” Percival recognized the person who spoke as Bryce, but Arthur didn't know, and he had bigger problems to deal with than an Amiran's name.

“Weren't there four of you?”

“Yes... Gavin didn't make it. We'd like to have a proper burial, once everything is settled within Camelot.”

“Of course.” Arthur turned to his men. “Double up on horses. We need two horses free to transport these men, and then return with a cart to take the fourth.” He turned back to the Amirans as his men followed his orders. “I have some things to attend to first, but I promise afterwards we will sit down and talk.”

“Of course, sire.” The three men nodded their heads in respect, but Arthur was already pushing his horse back to the castle. He didn't bother to wait for the stable boy to grab his horse's reins before he was running back to Gaius chambers.

He was more careful coming in the second time, understanding that Gaius was probably either focused or sleeping, and both were important to a man's health. When the door creaked open, Merlin was staring at him, a half grin on his cheeky little face. Gaius was in his own bed, asleep, presumably because he'd missed so much sleep over the time Merlin had been gone. Merlin was completely wrapped in bandages, every cut or scratch tended to.

Arthur crept in and sat beside Merlin on the floor, frowning at him as he did and Merlin chuckled quietly.

“What?”

“That's the first thing you say to me?”

“I believe the first thing I said to you was something along the lines of what an idiot you are.”

“Mmm.” Merlin blinked lazily and giggled.

“Really, what's wrong with you?”

Merlin's face went dead serious immediately. “What do you mean?”

“You're acting... strange.”

“Oh. That. Probably Gaius. He gave me... it was awful, but it made _aallllll_ the pain go away. And then he went to bed. I think he thought I would too. I didn't.”

“I can see that. You're not great at following orders.”

“He didn't tell me I _had_ to. I just think what he thought he gave me would make me want to sleep, but I don't.” Merlin closed his eyes and whispered, “I wanted to make sure you were alive first.”

“Why wouldn't I be alive?”

“Well, Morgana wants to kill you, doesn't she? So I thought she might have. But she didn't. So that's good.”

“That... it is, Merlin.”

“It is.” He grinned, his eyes still closed.

“Get some sleep, Merlin. That is an order.”

“I don't listen to your orders, you... you... pole.”

“...Pole?”

“Yes. Pole.”

“Well, then get some sleep because you're tired.”

“I _am_ tired. How did you know?” Merlin's eyes opened just a crack as he asked, “Did you read my mind? Are you a sorcerer?”

“Are you daft? Sleep, Merlin. I'll come find you in the morning.”

“Fine. But tell yourself that Merlin doesn't blame you. And also ask where Gwaine is, and the queen, because they were supposed to be here too but then they weren't.”

“The queen?”

Arthur waited for an explanation, but all he received was a deep snore. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He'd have to wait for an explanation. Merlin needed to heal. He stood and left the room, intent to get the information he needed from the Amirans and continue to plan. Perhaps he could actually do some real good, with their help.

 


	18. Chapter 18

Gwaine woke to the smell of fish cooking and the sizzle of a fire as they did so. He opened his eyes, feeling the tight muscles in his neck protest immediately at the position in which he'd slept. Honestly, it wasn't a good one; he'd managed to sleep with his head almost completely sideways, as close to sleeping on his own shoulder as he could get. And, of course, it was an incredibly attractive position in which to sleep.

Amethyst was sitting at the fire, half watching the fish cook and half keeping herself awake. She looked tired, and Gwaine understood why. She'd been going nonstop since escaping from imprisonment. Not exactly a restful experience.

“Smells good.” Gwaine smirked as she jumped, startled, and looked at him. She frowned at him.

“That was rude.”

“It was a compliment.”

“You know what I'm referring to.”

“I'm choosing to feign ignorance.”

“Well then, that must mean you're well enough to go catch and cook your own food. Good luck. It took me hours to catch these, but now that I'm not sharing it's more than worth it.”

“Ouch.” Gwaine pushed away from the wall, using only his left arm to push himself to his feet. It was very difficult, but Amethyst let him do it on his own. He was glad of that, and even more glad when he managed to walk the short distance to her side and sit. While it was completely uncoordinated and probably a bit embarrassing, at least it was on his own.

“You deserved it.”

“I know.”

“Are you hungry, though?”

“Not really.”

“But you need to eat.”

“Yep.”

“Good. Glad we're in agreement. It'll be done soon, your timing wasn't quite perfect.”

“Well, then we can talk.”

Amethyst smiled at the fire, shaking her head. “I never thought a man would be the one insisting we talk.”

“I'm not like other men.”

“Clearly.” She glanced at him, and her face flushed. She immediately returned her attention the flames.

“I think that's a compliment. I'm taking it as a compliment.” Gwaine smiled as she shook her head, her hair falling around her face. She must have washed it, good and hard, for it to look so clean. She'd then braided most of it in a single braid down her back, leaving hair around her face.

“You do whatever you want.” She still didn't look at him, but she was smiling.

“So... you kissed me. That's a thing.”

“It is.”

“And...?”

“I get tired of dancing around it. Obviously we care about each other, so let's just... get past all the drama, alright?”

“Are you sure?” Gwaine wasn't going to argue, of course. While he had gotten good at the dancing, it was a lot of time and effort to try something that might not work out. And generally, it wasn't exactly truthful, either. You had to play to the other person, give them things about yourself that they would like and not the rest. But it also generally let whoever he was dancing with the opportunity to learn a little about him, at least, and to get comfortable around him. Often the dance ended and a relationship didn't begin, because it just wasn't meant to be.

Granted, he was pretty sure they knew enough about each other from their time running away from the bad guys to be past that. But he didn't want to push her at all.

“I'm a queen. I'm used to making informed decisions. I think, at least for now, this is something I'd like to pursue, and I'm fairly certain it's the same for you?”

“Well... yeah.”

“I'm the queen of Amira, and you're a knight of Camelot, so obviously there's a conflict of interest, and we've got to focus on getting to Camelot safely before we... before we really get serious, but we can deal with that later.” Amethyst finally looked up at him, a small smile on her face. “That is, if you're okay with that. Sorry, I'm used to dictating.”

Gwaine grinned at her. “I think I can handle it. After all, I've been working for the Princess, and he's much worse than you.”

“Thank you, I think.” Amethyst turned the fish over, looked closely, and then pulled them off the fire. “Alright. Let's eat.”

After they finished, it was a struggle to get going. Gwaine grunted as Amethyst helped him to his feet and pulled his arm around her shoulders. They entered the cave with some trepidation, but Gwaine offered her his sword after she swore that she knew how to use it. The belt was a little large for her, so they tied it around her waist high enough that the scabbard wouldn't drag on the ground.

“Too bad we don't have a torch.” Amethyst muttered after a while of walking in the dark.

“It's a straight shot. No turns or anything.” He was trying very hard not to lean too much on her; after all, he weighed quite a bit more than she did, and it would slow them both down if she had to bear his weight. So he put his entire focus into moving his legs, one after the other, and ignoring the numbness that was slowly spreading out from his shoulder. He didn't bother telling Amethyst. She would just worry, and there was nothing she would be able to do about it.

Amethyst shrieked as bats flew past their heads, ducking down and almost throwing Gwaine off balance. He grunted as he landed heavily against the wall, even though he didn't feel it in his shoulder.

“I'm sorry!” She grabbed his arm, pulling him back toward her and, in the process, knocking herself over and pulling him on top of her. Gwaine felt the air leave her lungs, and immediately he rolled off of her and laid on the ground.

“Are you alright?” He asked, sitting up and pulling himself back to the wall of the cave.

After a few gasping breaths, he heard, “Yeah. Or at least, I will be. Give me a minute.”

Gwaine nodded before realizing she couldn't see him. “Alright.”

They waited in silence until Amethyst got up, slowly, by the sound of it. Gwaine pushed himself to his feet, stumbling as he did so. Amethyst's hand on his waist told him where she was before she pulled his arm back around her, and they continued on.

M.M.M

Gwaine had hardly said anything the whole time they were struggling in the dark, too concerned with moving to make small talk. Amethyst tried a few times, but quit when it became clear he wouldn't reciprocate. So when the daylight finally broke the darkness of the cave, they were both glad to see it and be rid of the oppression the darkness seemed to create in the silence.

“So just half a day left?” She asked, watching the cave walls become visible.

“Yes. It might take a bit longer, with me limping along.”

“We'll make it work.”

Gwaine gave her a small smile, and she saw it and returned a slightly larger one. “You're rather confident, Highness.”

“Amethyst.”

“I know.”

She only smirked at him before answering. “Once we get to Camelot, we can fix everything. Once my people learn what happened to me, they can't side with Morgana.”

“They can't?”

“They respect me. I'm sure you're Camelot citizens would come to Arthur, if they realized he'd been mistreated.”

“Probably.”

“It will be the same with Amira. We just have to get there, and I can take care of everything.”

Gwaine chuckled. “You're sure you're a queen?”

“Don't make fun. Just keep those legs moving.”

Gwaine did as she asked, although it was getting more difficult. He couldn't feel most of his torso, and his left arm was going as well. It was embarrassing, how much he had to rely on Amethyst for support, but she wasn't complaining. In fact, she completely avoided mentioning it, except to give him words of encouragement when it seemed he wasn't doing well.

They stopped so Amethyst could catch her breath and so they both could take a drink. As they were sitting there, Gwaine went over the words to convince her to leave him alone. He wanted it to be a flawless argument so they didn't waste time, so she could get to Camelot and -

“Don't.”

“I haven't done anything-”

“I can tell. You want me to leave you. I've gotten used to people telling me that. I'm the queen, it's almost always 'save yourself, come back for me' or 'I'll die for you.' I'm not doing that, I never do. So don't.”

Gwaine frowned at her. She was laying on the ground, staring at him where he leaned against the cliff. Her breathing was back to normal: it had begun to sound rather too labored as they walked, but she had caught her breath and was apparently ready to argue.

“You said yourself you need to get back to Camelot-”

“And so do you. Don't.”

Gwaine sighed and closed his eyes. “Fine. But anything that happens because you took more time to carry me is not my fault.”

“I wouldn't dream of blaming you.”

“Well... good.”

They sat in silence for a while before Amethyst decided they'd had enough time to sit. She stood, stretched, and knelt in front of him. “If you're done being self-sacrificing...” She said quietly, and he nodded. She pressed her lips to his, once, quickly, before pulling his arm around her shoulders, taking a deep breath, and pulling them both to their feet. Gwaine helped as much as he could, but it was difficult. He felt entirely useless as they began and his feet dragged.

There was more silence as both focused simply on moving forward, continuing on their seemingly never-ending trek to Camelot. It was dark before they made it, and when they stopped Gwaine knew he wouldn't be able to start again. His legs were absorbing the numb, and they'd both almost toppled too many times because of his inability to move well. If only they still had a horse, or they'd been able to cover more ground faster.

When Amethyst let Gwaine down, leaning again against the cliff wall, she took a few steps back and stared down at him. Her eyebrows were lowered in a frown, creating creases in her forehead that, truth be told, Gwaine thought were adorable. But she obviously wasn't in the mood to hear that, so he refrained from saying it.

“You're not in pain anymore.”

“No.”

“Then what's the problem? You're not being honest with me, and I don't like it.”

Gwaine debated his answer for a while before he decided honesty was the best way – and really the only way – to go. “I can't feel most of my body.”

“Is it because-?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.” Amethyst muttered, turning around and running her hands down her face. Gwaine watched her back as she took several deep breaths before turning back toward him. “So what, you won't be able to move at all soon?”

“Seems like it.”

“Okay. Okay. So we just can't stop. How much longer do we have until we get to Camelot?”

“Not much, if we move quickly.”

“But can you make it? That's the important question.”

Gwaine didn't know if he could, but he answered, “I have to.”

“You do. Okay. Up one more time.” She knelt by his side and hauled him to his feet again, with more difficulty than before, but soon they were going again. Amethyst seemed to be moving faster despite the added weight. She clearly was determined to get them there before Gwaine couldn't. Gwaine gritted his teeth and focused all of his efforts in his feet, trying desperately to help her in whatever way he could.

They had passed the end of the ravine when Gwaine's legs completely gave out and he fell, landing hard on his face before Amethyst could do anything to stop it. He groaned, and was alarmed when he couldn't roll over onto his back.

“Gwaine!” Her voice was panicked, and she helped him to roll, onto grass now instead of rock. He saw her expression, as alarmed as he felt, and somehow that soothed him.

“That was fun.” He muttered.

“Shit.”

“Aren't you supposed to be more... I don't know, eloquent?”

“Not the time. And don't. It's still don't. I won't leave you.”

“Highness-”

“And stop calling me that! It's not even proper, I should be 'Majesty', if anything, but I already told you my name is Amethyst.” Her voice was mildly panicked. She seemed just as surprised by that as Gwaine was, and took a moment to calm herself. Gwaine recognized the same royal facade that Arthur put on when he was dealing with a crisis.

“You don't have another choice.”

Gwaine didn't have a chance to protest when she moved, putting both her hands under his arms and hauling him.

“Hey, leave me-”

“I can see Camelot from here. We just have to go a little farther, and we can figure everything out. I don't leave people behind.”

Gwaine wanted to argue. He knew it was pointless. So he was silent as she dragged him through the grass.

“I hope you don't mind grass stains.” She was already starting to huff at the effort. They wouldn't make it, and Gwaine was afraid it would end up getting her hurt.

“I wouldn't have them if you would listen.”

“I wouldn't be annoyed if you would stop being an idiot.” After a moment, she added, “Tell me if anything changes.”

Gwaine assumed his agreement was expected, because she didn't bother pushing him for an answer when he didn't say anything. He was mildly embarrassed – that was a lie, he was incredibly embarrsed – to be in this position, but deep down he was grateful that she would take the time to make sure he was safe. Honestly, women usually were persuaded by his charm for a while, but it was never a long term thing. It was fun, for a while, and when it got difficult they broke it off and that was it. Well, Amethyst had hardly known him, and it was certainly past difficult, and yet... he liked this woman. It would probably never work, but for now he entertained the thought of them, spending years together, not as king and queen, not even as knight and wife, but simply as a man and a woman that enjoyed each other's company. He hadn't realized this daydream had led into sleep, and that while he was dreaming of a simple, perfect life with a queen, said queen was dragging him by the armpits closer and closer to the walls of Camelot.

“Gwaine! Wake up, Gwaine, come on. You're better than this.”

Gwaine opened his eyes, confused for a moment. He could see the walls of Camelot coming closer, which was strange since he was on his back. He took a moment to realize that must mean they were just about inside, and that Amethyst had managed to haul him all the way back to the castle on her own.

“Good job.” He muttered.

“Stay awake. You'll have to vouch for me so we can get inside.”

“Yes ma'am.”

It was moments later that her heard guards yelling. Amethyst was saying something to the guards, and they weren't responding well. Then he saw Leon's face, close to his.

“Gwaine. This is the queen of Amira. She didn't hurt you?”

“Course not. Morgana. The queen is good.” Gwaine's words were a little slurred. It seemed his tongue was beginning to go numb. Lovely. He was losing control of one of the last parts of himself.

Leon was gone from his vision, and he was aware of being lifted, although he couldn't actually feel the hands on his legs or under his shoulders.

“Amethyst, you coming?”

“I have to meet with Arthur. I'll find you later.” She smiled sadly at him as they parted ways.

Gwaine was aware of Merlin's voice when they entered Gaius chambers. That was good. He fell asleep soon after he was laid down, because it was just very difficult to stay awake. He'd apologize to Amethyst later, for falling asleep before she got back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a whole lot to say about this chapter, except I hope you enjoyed it. You all are wonderful. Thanks for reading.


	19. Chapter 19

When Merlin finally woke up again, he hurt.

The pain medication that Gaius had given him had completely worn off, and he was left fuzzy memories of being embarrassing with Arthur and throbbing throughout his body.

“Merlin, you're awake.” It was Gaius. Merlin didn't turn his head to look, didn't feel like it was a good idea.

“Yeah.”

Gaius was at his side, pressing a cup against Merlin's lower lip. Merlin obediently drank, despite the awful taste that lingered on his tongue long afterwards. Gaius seemed pleased enough, and Merlin expected to feel the pull of sleep soon. When he was staring at the ceiling for several more minutes, he asked, “What was that?”

“Nutrients. You need to build up strength, but you aren't ready for enough real food.”

“So I'm not going to sleep or get... weird?”

“No, Merlin. You've slept plenty. And you have to believe me when I say I didn't know that potion would effect you in that way.”

“It was...” Merlin couldn't say awful, because honestly it had been quite pleasant. The regret, however, was less than pleasant.

“Arthur understands that it was strong medication, and you can't be held accountable for what you said.”

Alarm raced through Merlin, assuming the worst from Gaius' words. “I didn't say-?”

“No, you didn't. But you were, from what I understand, acting rather strangely, and Arthur was concerned.”

“Concerned?”

“Yes, Merlin, concerned. He cares about you more than he'll admit.”

Merlin nodded, staring at the ceiling. He knew that.

“How is everything? Are they ready?”

“Arthur has been doing an extraordinary job preparing, but there are too many variables. He won't be completely prepared, no matter what he does.”

“Good thing I'm here, then.”

“Merlin, you can't very well fight in this state.”

“I'll do what I have to do.”

Merlin could see the face that Gaius was no doubt making in the silence even without looking at the older man. Gaius was always wary of Merlin risking his life, even though he understood why it was necessary. It was especially difficult for Gaius when Merlin came back wounded, but still with more work to do.

Gaius was silent for a long time after that, taking care of his other chores. When he did speak to Merlin, it was to check up on his health.

“Gaius, you know I have to.” Merlin said after a while.

“Yes. I don't have to like it, though.”

“It's for the king of Camelot-”

“And it puts you in danger.” Gaius must have realized his voice a little loud, because his next words were soft. “Merlin, you're like a son to me. I don't want to see you hurt.”

“And I don't want to see the kingdom crash and burn if Arthur gets hurt.”

“I know. It's necessary, Merlin, I'm not arguing that. I'm just telling you while I'll never like it.”

Merlin smiled to himself. “Okay. I can live with that.”

The silence following that was less awkward, and Merlin managed to doze off several times before Arthur came in. He looked exhausted; the bags under his eyes were deep, too heavy for a young king. But when he saw Merlin he couldn't stop the small smile that lifted his face.

“Awake then?”

“No.”

Arthur only smiled and went to sit in the chair that Gaius quickly vacated. He left the room, muttering something about delivering potions. Merlin made the effort to turn his head toward Arthur, which admittedly didn't take much effort.

“I'm afraid I don't have long, Merlin, so you'll have to save your petulance for later.” Arthur leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Are you alright?”

“Will be.”

“Good.” Arthur paused for a minute, clearly collecting his thoughts, before he returned his gaze to Merlin. “You said something before, when you were... after you'd taken the medication Gaius made. You talked about Gwaine and the queen.”

“Are they here yet?”

Arthur frowned. “No. Does that mean Queen Amethyst was returning with you?”

“Yes. She was... we were held together, at Morgana's camp. She's the only reason...” Merlin couldn't bring himself to talk about the torture just then, and Arthur seemed to understand. His expression was soft as he continued.

“She saved you. So she's definitely on our side?”

“Yes.”

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, good. And she and Gwaine, why aren't they with you?”

“Why didn't you ask Percival?” Merlin muttered. He didn't want to talk about it, but clearly Arthur wanted answers. He could have easily spoken with the knight while Merlin was asleep, and gotten them earlier and easier.

“I had to send him out again immediately after he got some rest. We're too short on people. But if you can't, I'll call him back.” Arthur's resolve was strong, but Merlin felt awful making Arthur withdraw one of his better knights just to ask some questions. So the boy shook his head, regretting the movement as soon as it happened, and took a deep breath.

“Gwaine was hurt.” Merlin launched into the story of their separation, giving the barest details in an effort to distance himself from the events. Arthur nodded, taking in every detail Merlin gave him and not asking for more, although it seemed he wanted to. When Merlin finished, Arthur ran a hand through his hair and nodded again.

“So they could be anywhere right now.”

“Yeah.”

“We can't afford to send anyone to search, not without a specific area to concentrate on. It could take too long, and it could lead into an ambush.” He explained, assuming he needed to give Merlin a reason for his actions. Merlin understood without, but appreciated the thought.

“They'll get back.” Merlin assured the king, who agreed quietly and stood.

“I have to get back to it, but I'll be in to see you again before dark. Don't push yourself.”

“I won't.”

“See that you don't” Arthur stood, moving to pat Merlin on the shoulder before thinking better of it. He awkwardly shuffled out of the room, leaving Merlin alone. The boy sighed and stared at the ceiling, counting cracks until someone returned.

He had reached five hundred and forty three when he realized Gaius should have been in to check on him, but he had heard no word from the old physician. Granted, there was little he could do about it; he was in no shape to get up and search the castle for the man. But he grew concerned as he received no word.

It was several minutes later when the door opened, and Gaius held the door as knights backed in, carrying-

Gwaine.

Merlin struggled to see the man, ignoring the pain it caused. Gaius ordered Gwaine be laid on his own bed, and the knights did as they were asked.

“Gaius, is he-?” Merlin asked, noticing that Gwaine didn't move as the carried him to the bed and laid him dead.

“He's alive, as far as I can tell.”

“Then, Morgana-?”

“She must have cursed him somehow, yes.” Gaius turned to the knights. “Thank you, but now I require peace and quiet.” The men hesitated, and Gaius crossed his arms. “Gwaine won't get any better with you all hovering, and you surely have other duties to attend to. _Go_.” The knights reluctantly left, and Gaius began pulling books out, muttering to himself as he did so.

“Do you think you can fix it?” Merlin asked quietly. Gaius took a moment to look up from the book he was leafing through.

“I certainly hope so.” He answered after a moment of silence. Then he returned to his book, a frown creasing his forehead. He didn't notice as Merlin slowly pushed himself up to sit, watching Gwaine breathe slowly.

Merlin watched Gwaine for a moment. His breathing was still steady, at least. The rest of him, however, seemed limp, easily manipulable.

“Can you help me...?”

“I can figure out what's wrong, Merlin. Just rest.”

“No, I want to.”

“Merlin, I would rather find a cure that doesn't require your...” Gaius looked at the door and lowered his voice slightly. “Your magic.”

“My magic would be faster.” Merlin was probably being a little spiteful, raising his voice just slightly as he said the words. It was stupid, he knew it was stupid, but he was also right.

“Please-”

“Please.” Merlin threw the words back at his guardian, but it wasn't a request. He needed to help Gwaine. Gwaine had helped him, wouldn't be in this situation otherwise.

Gaius sighed deeply but went to Merlin's side. “You'll regret this.” He warned as Merlin put an arm around the old man's shoulders.

“No.” Merlin was going to add onto that sentence, but that's when Gaius helped him turn and put his feet on the ground. There was the pain. Less extreme than on their journey back to the castle, but still awful. Gaius didn't pause as he helped Merlin stand, and Merlin was grateful past the pained grunts and one tiny whimper. Gaius helped him to Gwaine and set him gently in a chair beside the bed, the only other chair currently available in the small room. Merlin took several minutes to breathe deeply, and Gaius, after discerning that Merlin would be fine, went back to his books.

When Merlin felt prepared to move again, he leaned forward, very slowly and very carefully, to look at the knight. He was concerned by the black lines tracing his veins, and was even more distraught when he pulled back the worn collar to find the source of the magic poison. The skin there was raised slightly, almost as if it had boiled, and the outlines were blurred and bruised looking. Merlin put a hand on top of the wound and closed his eyes, feeling the ill-natured magic pulsing through the knight's body.

“It's bad.” Merlin muttered.

“It probably should have been treated immediately.” Gaius agreed.

Merlin nodded and withdrew his hand. Gaius nodded his approval.

“We need to do more research before anything else.” The physician muttered.

“I can't fix him right now.” Merlin hated that he had to admit that, hated that he was completely and utterly helpless, but there was no point killing himself and not helping his friend in the process. Besides, he supposed he had better put off dying for someone. After all, Arthur was about to fight a war against his half sister, and it _was_ his destiny to protect the once and future king.

“I suspected as much. I was worried you'd still try.”

Merlin couldn't argue. He was known to do things that were beyond his means. The difference was that most times, it seemed necessary, worth it. In this case, he both had to wait for the battle to risk his life and he had determined that Gwaine would live until Merlin had the strength or Gaius found a cure. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to dissipate again.

Before long the door opened, quietly, so gently that Merlin almost didn't notice. When he opened his eyes to look, he saw Amethyst. She had bathed, and her hair was now smooth and fell in soft curls past her shoulders. She wore a blue gown that drew out the blue of her eyes, and she wore the lightest amount of black kohl around her eyes.

She smiled at Merlin, and then her eyes flicked to Gwaine before she addressed Gaius. “You are the court physician?”

Gaius obviously hadn't noticed her entrance, because he jumped slightly and hurriedly bowed. “Your Majesty, I apologize, I didn't hear you enter.”

“Stand up, please. I'm just another woman here, visiting friends. Call me Amethyst.”

“Gaius.”

“Good to meet you, Gaius.” She nodded her head, a small smile on her lips. “I'm here to visit your patients, if that's alright.”

“Of course.”

She made her way to Merlin, her footsteps virtually silent on the floor. Merlin struggled to push himself out of the chair, to make room for her, but she shook her head.

“Stay there, Merlin. You've suffered enough, don't go to the trouble.” She pulled her skirts out and sat on the floor. “Are you alright now?”

“Getting better.” Merlin offered her a small smile, and she returned it before looking at Gwaine.

“And him?”

Gaius spoke for Merlin, who wasn't sure how to answer the queen. “We're doing all we can for him. But as it's a magic curse, it will take something special to cure it.”

“I suspected as much.” She reached up and took Gwaine's hand, holding it for a moment before sighing. “Take good care of him, please? I'm afraid my time is not my own here, while we plan for a war. I'm sure you've discovered as much, what with Arthur's responsibilities.”

“That we have.” Gaius agreed. Merlin nodded slowly.

“Would it be alright if I returned later? I'm not sure when, but I'd like to visit.”

“Yeah, of course.” Merlin answered quickly.

Amethyst smiled. “Good. Merlin, work on healing. Leave war to those of us who haven't been tortured by the enemy.”

She left as quietly and quickly as she had entered, leaving Merlin to wonder why she would think the servant had anything to do with the war. He glanced at Gaius, who shrugged.

“Perhaps she's very perceptive.”

“Yeah.” Merlin closed his eyes again, listening to Gaius shuffle around the room and flip through books. There were a few times when Gaius would take a breath to say something, but then would cut himself off. Merlin assumed he'd made an almost discovery that trailed into nothing of import.

“Merlin, would you like to go back to bed?” Gaius asked when Merlin had woken from dozing off in the chair. He didn't want to, of course. But he knew his body was healing, and he needed to rest more than usual.

Gaius helped him to his bed, and he laid there silently for a while before he managed to fall asleep. His dreams were completely empty, which was a blessing compared to what had been tormenting him in sleep for the past... Merlin wasn't even sure how long, any more.

He was woken from this sleep by Arthur's voice, extremely stressed and more than a little worried.

“They're almost here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friendlies! Hope all my States readers had a wonderful 4th, and the rest had a wonderful weekend!


	20. Chapter 20

“Let me go help you.”

“Merlin, I've already told you no, don't push it.” Arthur's voice was strained, and he was rubbing a finger on his temple to soothe the tension. It didn't seem to be working, but he kept at it. “If the Amiran queen was in here, she would be scolding me for your insolence.”

“No she wouldn't.”

“I know you are best friends with her, or whatever, but there's a little more pressure on me. It's different.”

“You don't give her enough credit.”

“Merlin-” Arthur cut himself off with a sigh. “I don't have time to do this with you. I came here solely to warn Gaius, so he can prepare for the wounded. _You_ are one of the wounded.”

“I'm fine.” Merlin muttered, glaring at Arthur through his lashes. Arthur threw his hands up with a scowl.

“ _Fine_ is my least favorite word now, and you're no longer allowed to say it by royal decree. Got it? Now I'm leaving to prepare my horse, because _you_ , _Mer_ lin, are not well enough to do that. Which certainly means you're not well enough to ride. I've learned my lesson.”

“Prat.” Merlin said under his breath. Arthur shot him a look, but decided it wasn't worth it. Merlin wouldn't be happy unless Arthur gave in, which he refused to do. He turned to leave, and just as he reached the door he heard Merlin's mutter.

“I'm alright.”

Arthur was sorely tempted to turn and smack the boy, or at least throw something at him, but he'd wasted enough time and he didn't want to break any of Gaius's things. So he continued on his way.

He's hoped that Gwaine would be up and moving already. He'd known that was a far fetched notion, but he had wanted the knight at his side.

At least he was returned, and Gaius still seemed hopeful about his recovery. He would take any shred of good news he could. Amethyst had told him about Amira, and how her country was of the impression that a war was by her will. There was very little way she would be able to tell them that she had not asked for the war, in fact was opposed to it. After all, Morgana would be there to stop her making an announcement for her people, and she refused to risk more of Arthur's knights to try to spread the word. In theory, Arthur understood. In reality, more men would probably die in the battle than those spreading news to Amira. But the knights would also be disbelieved, because they were from Camelot. They had come to the conclusion that it wouldn't be at all beneficial, and both Arthur and Amethyst had dropped the idea.

He continued on to Amethyst's rooms. She had refused to meet in the throne room or war room, like everyone else he had to speak with, but he couldn't exactly turn down her request to have a conversation. After all, as the queen of the country that was trying to attack Camelot, she was absolutely invaluable. But he was getting frustrated by her demands. If he wanted someone to tell him what to do... but he didn't. He'd loved his father, but he had hated that part of the man. He was stressed, and often didn't know what to do, but he was still an adult and the king, and he would do it.

He knocked on her door after muttering a quiet hello to the knights outside. When he heard her ask him in, he pushed the door open, his face in its usual kingly mask.

“Arthur. Good. I was beginning to think you wouldn't come.”

“I apologize. I stopped by to see Gaius.”

“Ah. And Merlin and Gwaine, are they-?”

“Gwaine is still unconscious, Merlin is as petulant as ever but bedridden.” Arthur didn't want to talk about his friends with the foreign queen, even if her face softened as she spoke of them. There were too many other things he needed to get done.

“Ah. I just wanted to tell you, away from all of your courtiers and knights, that I'll be joining you in this fight. I'll require armor and a good sword, which I will pay you for once I return to my home. A bow would not be amiss as well, I'm a fair shot.”

“I can't let you do that.” Arthur was tired of people telling him they would fight when they shouldn't. She gave him a hard look, and he returned it with one Uther had given him many times.

“In Amira, queens fight alongside their men just as kings do in Camelot. You will not stop me.”

“If you're not around to calm your people once this battle is over, Amira and Camelot will never have friendly relations again. They'll assume that I engineered the story so they would back down, and I will not put Camelot in any more trouble than it already is. Besides, Morgana is my problem to solve, not yours. You'll stay somewhere safe when we go to battle.”

“I will not.”

“I don't think you realize-”

“Arthur Pendragon, don't you dare tell me what I understand.” Her voice was loud and demeaning, and it made Arthur even more stubborn. “If you want me alive by the end, you'll just have to see that it happens or trust that I can take care of myself. But if you try to lock me up somewhere to 'keep me safe,' I will be sure to break out and go looking for a fight alone. That would be a lot more dangerous for you than just allowing me to fight in the first place, so tell me what your best option is.”

Arthur wanted to snarl at her, but he needed to be an adult or every single argument he made would be dismissed as a child's attitude, not a king's word. “Fine. You can be on the wall with the archers.”

“Arthur-”

“No. That is the most I will allow. In my castle, you follow my rules. When you're alive at the end, you can complain that I didn't let you fight, but rest assured, you _will_ be alive, because I won't allow my people to suffer anymore than they already have. Do you understand?”

Amethyst stared him down for several minutes, waiting for him to flinch or back down. When he did neither, she clenched her fists at her sides. “You'll regret this choice, Pendragon. I'm a good swordsman, and it seems you could use it.”

“My knights are plenty strong. You may have armor and a bow, and that is all. Are we at an understanding?”

“Yes, your majesty.” She gave him a mocking curtsy before moving to the small writing desk by the window, almost a mirror to the one in Arthur's room. “Tell one of your knights what I require as you leave.”

Arthur longed to tell her no, to be just as petulant as Merlin, but he couldn't afford that with the queen. Besides he had just won a victory with her, and he didn't want to spoil it. He hoped he had won. He hoped this wouldn't lead to her sneaking off on her own.

“She requires armor and a good bow and arrows.” Arthur told the knights. He waited until the door had completely closed before he added, “See to it that if she leaves, she has a knight with her. I don't want her sneaking away.”

“Yes sir.”

“Thank you.”

Arthur continued on his way. Next he was to check the battlements with Leon, who would be waiting for him at the stairwell. While they wouldn't be able to fix anything they found amiss properly, at least they would be aware and could plan accordingly.

Leon was standing in the planned meeting place, but the look on his face said he wasn't going to look at the battlements with the king.

“Sire.” He dipped his head to the king before continuing. “We're having difficulty with the blacksmith. He's planning to leave with his family.”

“He's allowed to do that. Find someone else.”

“There isn't anyone else. The lower town smith left weeks ago, and we've yet to find anyone as a replacement. Without a smith, we'll be vulnerable to any damages that may occur.”

“I'll speak with him. Look over the battlements without me, I'm sure you'll find anything wrong. Report to me later today.”

“Yes sire.” Leon rushed off to do his job as Arthur went in search of the smith.

He found the man as he was leaving the castle, dragging a crate of something to put on a cart in the courtyard. He stopped and bowed to Arthur, then continued in his efforts to leave Camelot.

“Blacksmith. How can I convince you to stay?” Arthur asked, following the man as he made his way to the cart.

“You can't, sire. I am sorry, truly I am, but I can't let my family be in danger. And as I don't see this war going well, I'm going to keep them safe. So you'll just have to find someone else, 'cause I won't do this.”

“I understand, of course, but I really need you. If you leave, the chances of our losing this battle increase significantly.”

“I'm aware of that, your majesty. But my family comes first. You wouldn't understand that, I know, because Camelot has to come first for you, but my loyalties are straight.”

“We can move your family into the inner castle, if that will help your peace of mind. And I promise, if anything were to happen to you, they would be cared for. I can't have you leaving when you're most needed.”

“And if Camelot's taken? I sure as won't let my family get tortured by that witch. She's stronger than you, no offense intended, because of all that witchery.”

“Then we will transport your family out. Please, I'm willing to meet whatever demands you have, but I need you here.”

The man stared at Arthur, long and hard. The hair of both his head and beard were graying and thin, and he had a lifetime's worth of experience behind his faded blue eyes, but he was a stubborn man. Arthur respected him greatly for his commitment to what was important to him, but there was no way Arthur could let him leave.

“Then assign a knight to get my family out safely, and I'll stay.”

Arthur frowned. He didn't want to spare any of his knights, but he knew he'd rather lose one knight than the blacksmith. So he nodded and offered the blacksmith a hand.

“Thank you. With your help, we'll be able to survive this war.”

“I wouldn't count on it. But I'll do what needs doing.” He answered as he shook hands with the king.

Arthur nodded. He was about to leave when he recognized one of his knights running toward him.

“Sire, we need to work on formations, and while Leon's busy-”

“Let's go.”

That was his entire day. Running around from one problem to the next, often switching his path midway to take care of something else. Leon was invaluable, as he was well aware of how things should be and how to fix them without the king's help. At the end of the day, Leon had a laundry list of things he had completed and presented them to Arthur for approval.

“Thank you, Leon.” Arthur said quietly, rubbing his temple again. He had never gotten a chance to go make sure Merlin was doing as he was told, but he planned to do that as soon as Leon was finished.

“Of course, sire. The queen wished to speak with you, when you were finished. She had information regarding the status of our allies, and she asked to be the one to speak with you. I think she misses you, sire.”

“I know.” Arthur ran a hand through his hair and stood. “Find someone to take over your post for the night. You need rest.”

“Of course.” Leon left Arthur alone in the throne room. Arthur took a deep breath before he stood, planning to find his wife. He would have to wait on Merlin. There was more to be done.

Gwen met him in their bedroom, where she was already prepared to sleep. She smiled warmly as Arthur came in the room.

“You look tired.”

“We're preparing for a war.”

“I know. You still need to take care of yourself.”

“I don't really have time, Gwen, I've got a lot of things to – Leon said you had information.”

Her face fell slightly, but she nodded. “I'm afraid we won't have much help. Mithian sends her regards, and will send knights as soon as she can, but they're facing a famine and are having trouble keeping order. Bayard is sending a few men, but hardly enough to make a difference. I suspect he's just waiting for us to fall, planting men to take control if that were to happen. Which it won't, of course, but he's hoping...”

“So we can't plan on help, then.”

“We shouldn't count on it, no.”

Arthur sighed. “I figured as much. I had hoped... it doesn't matter. Make sure Leon is aware, and make arrangements for Bayard's men. Somewhere far away from the center of the castle. I don't want to push Bayard into breaking our alliance, but I don't trust him or his men.”

“Yes, Arthur.”

Arthur was about at the door when he turned toward Gwen. “I really am sorry, but I don't have time to be a husband right now. There's too much that needs doing, and I'm the one that needs to do it. After this is over, we'll take a short break, go somewhere nice, just the two of us.”

“And a few armed guards to make sure we aren't assassinated.” Gwen smiled at her husband. “I know, Arthur. I was prepared to be a war queen when we married. I just miss you.”

“I love you.” Arthur said quietly. He returned to her and kissed her gently on the forehead. “I'm going to see how Merlin's doing, and then I'll be back. Probably I'll be too tired to think clearly, but I'll sleep in our bed tonight.”

“Good. I'll wait up for you.”

“Gwen, you need sleep as well.”

“And I'll get it when you do. Call it extra motivation.” She smiled at him and kissed him quickly on the cheek before going to their bed and pulling down the covers. Arthur left the room, headed for Merlin.

The hallways were quiet, which was strange after all the hustle and bustle of the day. Arthur enjoyed the silence, interrupted by his footsteps and muted voices behind closed doors. It was a nice break, and he appreciated that these moments could still happen in the midst of planning for a war. It almost felt as if the whole thing was a dream, that this quiet was reality. It felt right, better than the stress he'd been feeling for the past weeks. That made it even more difficult to enter Gaius' chambers. In there were two friends that were wounded, and that would make it all feel real again.

But he had made a promise to Gwen, so he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Gaius wasn't in the room, but Merlin was. Merlin was sitting by Gwaine, his hands outstretched and muttering something. But that wasn't what caught Arthur's attention. The boy's hands were _glowing_. And he knew. He knew what that meant, knew immediately that Merlin had been lying to him the entire time they'd known each other, or at least for a while.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to yell at the boy or seethe in quiet anger, or perhaps slink away and pretend he'd never seen anything. That would be easier. He wouldn't have to confront his friend, wouldn't have to decide whether or not he should have the younger man burnt at the stake.

Arthur didn't even bother to close the door. He turned and fled, running... not back to his rooms. He couldn't face Gwen, not right now. He wasn't sure if he should tell her or not.

But wait. There was nothing to tell. He hadn't seen anything. This was a dream, it had to be. Merlin wouldn't keep that from him. Merlin couldn't even _have_ magic, he was so dull. He could get himself out of all of those scrapes if he had magic, and he usually had to wait for Arthur to come find him.

There was no way that Merlin had magic. Absolutely none.

Arthur returned to his rooms, where Gwen was laying in bed with her eyes closed. She smiled as she heard the door open.

“Do you need help?” She asked.

“I can manage.” He was glad she kept her eyes closed, because he wasn't sure what his face was doing in that moment. He quickly stripped and put on his nightclothes before crawling into bed. Gwen snuggled against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin above her head. This was real. What had just happened was the result of stress, a stress induced daydream. Daynightmare. Whatever the case, it wasn't real, and there was no point thinking about it.

He fell asleep quickly, and while he dreamed about Merlin and his magic, he didn't remember any of it when he woke in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are nearing the climax of the story! I'm not sure if I'm glad of that or not. Hope you enjoyed!


	21. Chapter 21

As soon as Gaius left to gather supplies, Merlin pulled himself to his feet. It was difficult, but after a day of laying in bed he was feeling much better. He hadn't told Gaius he had been slowly pushing his magic to heal, and the man had assumed whenever Merlin dozed it was his body's natural process and not exhaustion from using magic.

Gwaine was still sleeping. His breathing seemed less pronounced than before, and Merlin wondered if this was a disease meant to kill. But if that had been Morgana's intent, wouldn't she have just killed him straight off, instead of this? After all, something of this nature would take much more magic to create. Surely she had better things to do than torment a knight of Camelot?

Of course, Morgana wasn't exactly known for her forgiveness. If Gwaine had done anything to make her angry, it was easy to believe she'd want to torture the man until he died. And he had saved both Merlin and the queen, which had to be annoying.

It didn't matter, in the end. Gwaine needed to be healed, and Merlin finally felt able to do it.

He used his magic to explore the curse for a moment before deciding the course of action he'd decided upon was the right one. He honestly wasn't sure how he knew, he just did. And he'd learned to trust his instincts when it came to magic.

He held his hand over Gwaine's chest, closed his eyes, and began the long string of enchantment that was necessary to remove the curse and the resulting paralysis. He lost himself in the words, focusing only on the healing that was required of him. When he heard the door open, he cursed inwardly. He had hoped to be finished before Gaius returned, but it seemed he would have to deal with the physician's wrath while exhausted.

At least he was almost finished. With a few more words and endless seconds of power streaming into the knight, he slumped back into his chair. It was over. If all had gone well, Gwaine would wake in the morning.

Merlin looked up, expecting to see Gaius looming over him, but no one was there. With a frown, he glanced around the room, but apparently it had been his imagination, because it was completely empty except for him.

Good. He really didn't want to deal with it.

He checked Gwaine. There was a lingering bruise on his shoulder, but otherwise his skin seemed clear. It should stay that way, although Merlin expected that Morgana would have planted some fall back in the curse, to be on the safe side. He'd be on the lookout for that.

He didn't have the strength to return to his bed. He fell asleep in his chair.

M.M.M

When the warlock woke, he was in his bed, sweating slightly beneath his blanket. He stretched, cringing slightly. He still hurt too much for that, it seemed. He pushed the blankets down and heard the crinkling of paper. He frowned and dug around the blanekts before he found the small note that Gaius had obviously written.

_Merlin-_

_I know what you did. I can't say I approve, but it seems our knight will be fine. I'm off to gather more supplies, and I expect you to be in bed when I return. We'll talk about your actions then._

_-Gaius_

Well, that was expected. At least the physician had checked on Gwaine before leaving. He trusted Gaius judgement.

Even so, Merlin wanted to check the man himself. So he rose, struggling with tired limbs and sore wounds, and returned to the chair by Gwaine's chair. The knight was breathing steadily, and when Merlin pulled the shirt aside he saw the same healing bruise, without the dark lines to accompany it. With a gentle prod of magic he couldn't trace anything of the curse.

With luck, Gwaine would wake up some time that day. Merlin leaned back in the chair, mildly proud of himself. That was one defeat for Morgana, even if it was a small one. He was in the mood for more.

“Merlin. I see you're feeling better.”

Merlin jumped and regretted it as pain reared its ugly head. He turned to Amethyst, who was trying to stifle a chuckle.

“I apologize, I didn't mean to startle you.” She said quietly as she entered.

“No problem. I'm fine.” Merlin answered quickly.

“Good. You seem to be feeling better this morning.”

“I am.”

“Is Gaius here?”

“No.” She seemed to have already known that, but the still relaxed slightly at the word.

“I was going to ask you. Your … your magic, can you heal him?”

Merlin stared at the queen for a moment, completely shocked at the words that had just fallen from her mouth. After a moment, he composed himself and shook his head. “I'm not sure what you mean, your majesty, I'm just a manservant-”

“Gwaine told me.”

“He-” Merlin turned to stare at the knight, wishing he was awake so he could hit him, before returning his attention to Amethyst.

“I don't know why he would have said that, I don't have magic, never have, it's illegal in Camelot-”

“I won't tell Arthur.”

Merlin visibly relaxed at those four words. “Why not?”

“Because... well, I know what it's like.”

Before Merlin could stop himself, he said, “I doubt that.” His eyes widened as her eyebrow quirked up, and immediately he apologized.

“No, you're right. I don't. But I knew someone... He was a good man, and he gave me a lot to think about. But I can't let Gwaine die just because some of us never quite understood magic. So if you can help him, please.”

Merlin stared at her for a moment before a half grin took over his face. “Can't. Already did.”

She looked as if she was about to argue before she fully comprehended the sentence. Then she smiled at Merlin, a wide smile that was definitely not regal, but pure joy.

“I would hug you, but I assume that would be painful for you.”

“Yeah.”

“Will he...?”

“He should wake up soon.”

“He's already awake.” the gruff voice came from Gwaine's lips, and the queen lost all regality in that moment as she watched Gwaine sit up. She enveloped him in a hug, and he responded in kind. Merlin did his best to just stay out of the way.

“You idiot.” She muttered.

“Listen, I tried to stay awake, but-”

“I don't care. Don't let it happen again.”

“Yes, Highness.”

She hit his shoulder at the words, but Gwaine hardly seemed to notice. After too long of feeling completely awkward and unwanted for Merlin, the two pulled apart.

“I need to be going. Lots to do. But I wanted to make sure you were alright.” Amethyst said, returning to her queenly demeanor and smoothing out her skirts. “I'm sure I'll see you around.” She turned and left, leaving both Gwaine and Merlin staring and wondering at the confusing nature of women.

“Well.” Merlin muttered.

“Well indeed.” Gwaine laid back down, his arm behind his head. “That was fun.”

“Are you and she...?” Merlin asked, his eyes still on the door.

“Dunno, mate. It's complicated. But isn't she something?”

“Yeah.” Merlin relaxed back into his chair. “Shouldn't you be off to find Arthur?”

“I figure I need to wait for Gaius okay, before I do. Otherwise I'll be dragged right back.”

Merlin didn't get a chance to nod before the door opened and Arthur came in.

“Just here to make sure you're not dead, _Mer_ lin. Then I'm off to settle more war business.”

“Very not dead, sire.” Merlin answered. Arthur nodded, not seeming to catch the obstinance in Merlin's voice.

“Good. Gwaine?”

“Present.” Gwaine answered. Arthur nodded and began to leave before he stopped.

“Gwaine, how long are you going to pretend to be ill?”

Gwaine smiled. “Until Gaius kicks me out.”

“Fine. As soon as he gives you a look over, you're to find and report to me. I have things for you to do.”

“Don't I get a sick day?” Gwaine asked, and it was clear that Arthur was refraining from yelling. Probably because Gwaine didn't know how dire the situation they were in was.

“No. Morgana is practically on our doorstep, and soon she'll be here to tear Camelot down. So I need you up and moving as soon as possible.”

Gwaine was quiet as he took in those words. Then he nodded, completely serious. “I didn't realize it was so bad. I can go now, if-”

“No. I want Gaius to make sure you're fine. You're no use to me if you kill yourself.” Arthur was quiet for a moment as he looked at Merlin and Gwaine. “I'm glad you're both getting better. But we have too much to do for me to be lenient.”

“Understood, princess. As soon as Gaius gives me the go ahead, I'll be there.”

Arthur nodded. “Fine.”

“I thought that word was banned.” Merlin muttered. Arthur turned to him with an almost smirk on his face. Almost. There was also a trace of confusion there, but Merlin wasn't sure why that would be.

“Only for you, Merlin.”

“Prat.”

Arthur shook his head, but the almost smile was still there. “Heal. That's an order.” Then he left, probably to do more king stuff. Gwaine frowned at Merlin.

“Did something happen?”

“The... war?”

“No, between you and him.”

Now it was Merlin's turn to frown. “I don't think so. I'm sure it's just stress from everything.” But he wasn't sure. He had been hoping it was just him, reading too much into Arthur, and he was perfectly fine. But there was something in that interaction that was detached, and... off. He kept telling himself that's what happened when a war was on the doorstep, but Gwaine had seen it too.

“Yeah. Probably. He can't know...”

“You and the queen are the only ones, and she won't tell.”

“No. She won't.”

“You know why.”

Gwaine smirked at Merlin. “I'm not allowed to tell.”

“But you told her about me!”

“A deal's a deal. I can't tell you. Sorry.”

Merlin groaned his frustration as Gwaine chuckled.

“You seem much better than when we dragged you away from Morgana.”

“Magic.”

“I guessed as much. And Arthur doesn't...?”

“Blood makes everything look worse.”

“How many times have you said that?”

“That's a secret, can't tell.”

Gwaine made as if to elbow Merlin, then stopped when Merlin flinched away. “Sorry mate. You make it easy to forget.”

“Apparently.”

“Don't get all sullen now, honest mistake.” Gwaine sat up, looking at Merlin. “You're a lot stronger than we give you credit for.”

“I'm aware.”

Gwaine smiled and shook his head. “Of course you are. Now then, when will Gaius be back?”

Merlin shrugged. It didn't hurt so much anymore. “He wasn't back until I was asleep last night, and he left before I woke up.”

“Right. Well, you tell him that I found myself suddenly feeling better, so I went off to help Arthur. And he's to tell anyone that he approved my discharge.”

“I can't tell him what to do-”

“It'll be fine. If Arthur finds out, what's the worse he can do? He won't ban me from the battle.”

Merlin chuckled. “Fine. But I'm not responsible for any punishment you receive.”

I wouldn't dream of pinning the blame on you.” He winked at Merlin as he stood, stretching his limbs with a smile on his face.

“Feels good to have full range of motion.”

“Yeah, brag about it. That's nice.”

“You'll heal soon enough, I'm sure. It can't be as bad as it seems.”

Merlin made a face at him and he chuckled.

“You're too determined to be bedridden for long. I'll see you in a bit.” Gwaine gave Merlin a small wave before he left.

It was a long, boring time before Gaius returned and immediately set to scolding the warlock, going on about how he needed to take better care of himself, to stop trying to sacrifice himself for all of his friends, to let others help him once in a while. He listened, because there was no point trying to get a word in while Gaius was on a rampage. When the older man had finally finished, Merlin spoke up.

“I did heal myself first.”

“You did.” Gaius didn't seem to believe him.

“I did. I'm not going to die for _Gwaine_ , that would be ridiculous.”

Gaius couldn't help the small smile that set on his lips. “Alright, fine. Let me see your injuries. You can prove to me that you did as you say.

Merlin pulled his own shirt off and sat through Gaius inspection. The wounds were much better now, although there were still a few that threatened to reopen with too much stress and the others were very likely still painful. He rebandaged Merlin and shook his head.

“You really are something, Merlin.”

“I know.” Merlin grinned at Gaius.

Gaius set about preparing a meal for the two of them, since obviously Merlin was ready to eat something real. Their conversation was simple, fun, and satisfying. For the first time in so long, Gaius and Merlin sat down to a normal meal without worrying whether Merlin would survive the night. It was a relief, especially for the boy who knew he would live another day. The war would come, of course, and they would have to deal with that. But now seemed all the more precious because of that, with the sunlight streaming through the window and the quiet, relaxed atmosphere around them.

It was ruined by Arthur. Of course it was ruined by Arthur. He barged in and demanded to know if Gaius had approved the knight to be up and about.

“Of course, Arthur.” Gaius said, attempting to calm the king. “An experimental cure worked wonders, and he's well enough to be of service to you.”

Arthur's eyes narrowed. “Experimental?”

“I admit, as we weren't entirely certain of the nature of the problem, we had to be creative. But we did ample research beforehand, I assure you.”

Arthur seemed to relax slightly. “Right. Good. I'll just... go back to it. Merlin, be as much use to Gaius as you can be.” Arthur turned and left, obviously hurrying to the next item that required his attention. Merlin and Gaius shared a look before Merlin's lips quirked into a smile.

“An experimental cure, huh?”

“Well, I couldn't very well say you had magicked him to good health, could I?”

Even Gaius cracked a small smile at that, and together they chuckled, quietly enough that no one would come to see what was so funny.

They enjoyed a few hours in that manner, mixing tonics and ointments as they did. Neither of them spoke of the reason they were mixing so much in advance, so it was easy to pretend there wasn't a major crisis coming.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short chapter, and not a whole lot happens. But important, nonetheless. Hope you enjoyed!


	22. Chapter 22

Gaius was summoned to a meeting early the next morning, to take place in ten minutes. It was a flurry of activity as he fought to get ready, and by the time he had finished, he noticed Merlin standing against the door frame. He had his arms crossed, and he was trying to hide the pain, but obviously it wasn't comfortable for him to be there.

“Merlin, bed.” Gaius said firmly. Merlin could tell that Gaius wasn't at all surprised when he didn't follow the order.

“I'm coming with you.” Obviously those words didn't come as a surprise to the physician, either. He just sighed heavily.

“Come along then, we have to hurry.”

Merlin opened his mouth to protest before his brain registered the words. “Wait, what?”

“I said alright, but we must _hurry_.” Merlin stumbled out of the way, but Gaius hurriedly wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders and pushed them on. It seemed an incredibly long trip to the war room, and when they arrived most everyone else who would be there was seated. Arthur caught Merlin's eye, frowned, and then made his way over to the boy.

“What are you doing here?” He was close to Merlin's face when he finished the question, his voice low and full of borderline anger.

“I said he could come, sire.” Gaius said quickly, before Merlin had a chance to make a rude comment. Arthur turned to stare at the man, his eyebrows raised.

“And it's acceptable for someone in his condition to be up and about?”

“He's going to have to be, sire. I'll need his help.”

Arthur stared at Merlin for a long moment, almost a glare but not quite. Then he abruptly turned and walked back, completely ignoring Merlin's presence. Merlin sighed heavily.

“Sit, Merlin. That might make him happier.”

“Doubt it.” Merlin muttered, but he sat in the chair Gaius offered anyway.

It wasn't much longer before Arthur began. He looked over the room, meeting the eyes of everyone except Merlin. My, but wasn't he a prat this morning. Merlin rolled his eyes at the king but continued to focus on him.

“If Morgana's army keeps moving at the same rate, we should be seeing them later today. This isn't new to most of you. But these are the last moments we have to do anything before the battle begins, so I won't keep you long. Many of you have had the pleasure of meeting the Queen of Amira, Amethyst.”

At these words, Amethyst, who sat beside Arthur, waved gently at the assembled men. They nodded in turn, as niceties demanded, before Arthur continued.

“She will be with the archers, unless we discover a chance for her to speak with her people, _safely_.” The way he said those words told Merlin they'd had this conversation, and she cared little about safety. The way she had to stop herself from rolling her eyes confirmed that.

“I want everything ready by midday today. If that's not possible, you'll have to talk to me, but rest assured I'm doing everything I can to meet that deadline, and I expect the same. We don't know how she plans to attack, so we have to be prepared for everything. Any questions?”

No one volunteered a question, so Arthur dismissed everyone. Merlin and Gaius were forced to wait until the room cleared a little before they could leave, which meant Arthur had time to catch them. Merlin groaned inwardly. There was nothing he wanted less than to deal with Arthur's 'you're injured and you need to rest and let me do everything' rant.

“If you're going to be helping Gaius, make sure you do it sitting down. And don't overwork yourself. I want to have a servant when this is over.” His tone was stern, but his eyes were concerned more than anything, so Merlin didn't bother with backtalk.

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Alright. I won't quit because you're such a prat. Can we go now?” The room had cleared enough that they could exit, and Merlin wanted to make sure they were already hard at it before Arthur had a chance to change his mind. He'd help Gaius until the battle started. Then he'd have more important things to worry about.

“Go.” Arthur rolled his eyes as Merlin hurried away – as well as he could hurry – with Gaius. That boy would get himself killed, at the rate he was going. But Gaius would know how to keep him in line so he didn't do that. He just had to trust Gaius.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair. Unless Gaius was the sorcerer that Morgana had been looking for. 

He reprimanded himself immediately. He couldn't start with that again. Morgana either didn't know what she was talking about, or the sorcerer in question wasn't as evil as Arthur had been raised to believe. The latter was harder to convince himself of, so he chose to believe that there was no sorcerer behind his walls. He'd be able to investigate more later, if nothing came up during the battle. Now was certainly not the time.

He was walking down the hall before he even realized he was moving, on his way to the battlements. From there he could look out over all of Camelot, or at least a fair portion of it, and see where he would like to station his troops. 

He had hardly gotten halfway there when he was stopped by a knight, asking about... something. Arthur automatically answered without really hearing the question. He was tired and focused, two things that generally did not work well together. He continued on his way without waiting for the acknowledgment he was sure the man would give him. Not now. He was already picturing the area in his mind, but a more accurate image was necessary. He kept his eyes forward as he passed people, hoping if he looked very intent on his destination, he wouldn't be bothered. It didn't work, of course; there were always problems that needed the king's advice, or courses of action that needed his seal of approval. At least five more times he was stopped, but he always put on his king face and gave them what they needed before rushing away.

The fresh air was relaxing, but that relaxation faded away as he began staring at the kingdom,  _his_ kingdom. There were so many things to think about, and so many possibilities that he needed positive outcomes for. He would not lose Camelot. He would lose knights, but he was determined that it wouldn't be many. 

That meant he was rather annoyed when he heard, “Oi, Princess.”

“Gwaine. What.” 

There was a pause, and he heard the footsteps near him. “You alright?”

“Fine, Gwaine. What do you need?” He tried to soften his voice. He wasn't angry with Gwaine, he reminded himself. He was just stressed, and concerned about his people, and wishing he knew what to expect. 

“One of the riders is back.”

“What's the news?” Arthur had sent men out the day before, in an attempt to gather more information about the army. He hoped that he would more effectively be able to plan for the upcoming battle, and perhaps get an accurate count of the men at Morgana's disposal. 

“Not exactly good.” Arthur turned to look at Gwaine at those words.

“Only one?”

“The others... apparently Morgana wasn't in a good mood.”

Arthur let the news sink in for a moment. It made him angry, but mostly at himself. He should have known better. He shouldn't have sent them in the first place, he knew that she wouldn't take it easy on them if they were caught. He should have accepted the information he had and used it-

“The last guy, Erwin, he was hurt, but he'll live through it. A cut on his chest, not very deep, but it bled a lot. He says they haven't changed much, from what he could tell. Maybe a few less than before. But they'll arrive sooner than expected.” Gwaine shrugged. “We needed to know, Arthur. You did the best you could.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Obviously he wasn't convinced, but there was little Gwaine could do about that. Arthur was dealing with a lot of stress. He would probably be a lot better once the battle actually started, and he could focus on what he knew instead of deliberate on what he didn't. Plus, he always seemed much better when he finally got a sword in hand. So Gwaine took his leave, quietly, letting Arthur watch his kingdom and think. He would be fine, eventually. He always was.

Gwaine was tasked with the chore of watching the foreign queen. Well, chore wasn't the right word, because he rather enjoyed spending time with her. He just felt he should be doing something... more war-like. After all, he assumed Arthur would be needing him when Morgana's army came. He was a bit out of practice, after days of hardly being able to move, but he wasn't getting any practice in. It made him a little angry, of course, but he understood to a point. Since Amethyst had taken a shine to him, she was much happier with him constantly glued to her side rather than someone else. He just wished, in the I'm-a-knight-of-Camelot part of him, that he was doing knight stuff.

Amethyst was being rather reclusive, as well, which didn't lead to much excitement. She didn't much care to associate with most of the people of Camelot, which was a problem in and of itself. She was perfectly happy when it was just the two of them in her rooms, but as soon as they left, she was a different person. Still strong, still beautiful, but harder. As if she had a grudge that she couldn't let go. 

He knocked on her door before entering, to warn her that he was coming in. She rarely answered when he, or anyone else, knocked. 

“Gwaine. Good. How's everything going?” She was always eager for news, however. She gave him a small smile, apparently reserved only for him, and stood from the edge of the bed. She set the book she had been reading aside and took the few steps to stand at the foot of the four poster.

“They're getting very close. We won't have long now.”

“I'd like to practice with a bow.” 

“The other knights are there now.”

The look on her face fell at those words. “Never mind then.”

“No surprise.” Gwaine had meant for the sentence to be much quieter than it was. Amethyst's eyes widened fractionally before her eyebrows sunk over her eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“What exactly is it that you hate about Camelot knights?” There. He'd said it. He had very much enjoyed her company before they had made it to Camelot. She had always been pleasant, as pleasant as royals ever were, but there had been a kindness and determination in her that made Gwaine find her... well, attractive beyond her physical appearance. This, however, was rivaling that attraction.

“I'm just not overly fond of Camelot, alright?”

“Why? You realize I live here, yeah?”

“Of course I do, I'm not an idiot. I have nothing against you, but you spend so much time outside of these walls that you... you aren't tainted.”

“Tainted? By what?” Gwaine's voice was a little too loud. He reminded himself to calm down, but, as per usual, it wasn't exactly successful.

“Camelot and all the... Just Camelot.”

“Arthur isn't Uther, alright? Camelot is different-”

“It's not. Everything is the same.” Her eyes were hard to read, but there was definitely sadness in them. 

“And you aren't going to tell me anything, are you?” When she didn't answer, he threw his arms up and turned away. “I've had issues too, specifically with nobles. And they were nobles like you, who clung to the past and refused to accept that maybe things aren't always as straightforward as you like to think. I'll be outside, if you need anything.” He left the room. He felt as if he should be angry, but mostly he was just upset. He had thought more of her. He didn't know what her problem was, didn't know what had happened to her in the past, but she also refused to see what was happening in the present. And that, that was inexcusable.

He sat in the hallway, half expecting her to come out and speak with him. But time passed and she was quiet in her room.

A loud rumbling made him forget his issues with the queen and their confused relationship. He wanted to take off down the hallway, figure out what it was, but he had a responsibility to Amethyst. So he watched as other men, and a few women, ran down past him to help with whatever had happened. 

Amethyst peeked her head out of the door. “What happened?”

“I don't know. Grab your bow. We're going to find out.”

She nodded, and within moments she was back, bow and quiver over one shoulder. They hurried to the nearest stairwell, thinking to get up high so it was more obvious where the damage was, but it was completely blocked by rubble. Gwaine felt uneasy.

“Turn around. We're going outside.” he said, and as they ran he grabbed her hand to keep her close.

M.M.M

Merlin was helping Gaius mix yet more potions, with a few ointments for special cases. It was boring work, and he wanted to be out with Arthur, plotting, but he knew the king would never accept his idiot manservant was capable of running around with his extensive injuries. Gaius had helped him put on an ointment earlier, and now he couldn't even feel the pain of the remaining wounds. 

He was about to pour a vial of wolfsbane into the mixture he was creating when his whole body went stiff. He didn't noticed that he dropped the vial and it shattered upon impact. He didn't notice Gaius scolding him immediately afterward, nor the concerned look when he realized Merlin wasn't paying attention. 

He felt the ill intent just as clearly as he felt the magic. Morgana had arrived way before schedule, to wreak havoc before they were prepared for her. 

“Morgana.” He muttered in response to Gaius questions, and before Gaius could argue he was running. He had to get to Arthur. 

M.M.M

Arthur wasn't coming up with any good plans. The longer he stared at the empty expanse before him, the more desolate he became. He'd seen his father defend this land, but that usually meant he was on the front line, using his sword to defend his people instead of his strategy. Of course, there was strategy involved in being on the front line, he knew that as well as anyone. But it was on his feet, something he didn't have long to think about. This... this was more difficult. He'd never given his father enough credit for it.

He frowned when he noticed the lone rider on the horizon. After a moment, he found hope surging up inside him. Maybe one more of the riders had lived. Maybe he had just been detained, or Erwin had just thought he'd seen-

He wasn't prepared when, seconds after he realized the raised hand, an explosion erupted around him. He felt the ground beneath his feet disappear, and he hardly had a chance to grab onto the crumbling tower around him. As it was, it wasn't a solid grip, and he could feel himself slipping. He pulled himself up, even though he could feel the muscles of his arm screaming, and he knew the stone around his fingers was about to crumble. He had to be quick-

Another explosion threw him away from the tower, and he knew there was no way he could grab anything. He tried, nonetheless, as he fell through the open air, dreading the moment he hit solid ground.

 


	23. Chapter 23

Gwaine dragged Amethyst through the castle, and while it had to be unpleasant for her, she didn't complain. He was grateful for that. He didn't have time to wait around or convince her. Something big had happened, and he needed to know what.

They finally made it outside, but they didn't go much farther than that. A mountain of rubble was piled just to the right of the exit he had chosen, and much of the front of the castle was ruined. Chunks of stone still fell from the wall, pieces that had been knocked loose but hadn't tumbled with the rest. Gwaine wasn't sure what to do until he saw a lone figure, dangling from the side of the castle. Arthur. He started running, but before he got far a second explosion went off, throwing the knight backwards. He landed hard, the breath knocked from him, but otherwise he thought he was fine. No blinding pain anywhere, anyway. He was aware of Amethyst beside him, questioning his health, but he only had eyes for the spot that Arthur had been. Clearly he wasn't there anymore, that part of the castle wasn't there anymore. He pushed himself up, still gasping in deep breaths, and began running. Arthur would be somewhere among the rubble, probably fine. After all, Arthur always managed to come out of it, somehow. And he was too stubborn to lose to his half-sister.

“Gwaine!” Amethyst's voice behind him. She was following him, but he didn't have time to wait for her anymore. His king would always come before the foreign queen, he realized, because he owed so much to Arthur. And that thought spurred him to go faster, to find his king before Morgana could do any more damage.

He watched his feet as he ran, avoiding the rubble that littered the ground, but he still managed to trip and fall face first to the stone-paved ground. He grunted and put a hand up, wiping away the blood that had started spilling from his nose, and kept going.

He stopped abruptly when he saw Arthur, his eyes wide but attempting to retain composure. Gwaine would be doing something similar, if he was floating several feet above the ground. He only stumbled for a moment before he continued toward Arthur, thanking Merlin and his magic for thinking fast enough to save the king.

It wasn't until he reached Arthur that he heard Merlin yelling from behind, stumbling out of the castle and clutching at his side. He glanced back at Merlin just before he felt his feet lift off the ground. His last thoughts before he hit the ground, hard, were, “Again?”

M.M.M

Merlin watched as Gwaine flew backward, and then, once he was sure that Gwaine would be fine, he turned his attention to Arthur. He looked... not terrified, the king would never sink so low, but very concerned with his present situation. Merlin sat on a piece of rubble close to a mildly solid wall and rested, feeling the exertion take its toll on his body. He'd been out due to injury for too long, if just that run had him panting like he was. After a few deep breaths, he looked at Morgana. She was suspending Arthur, had clearly saved him. Was she loathe to kill the man that had been a brother to her for all those years, or did she have something else in mind?

Whatever the case, he started muttering the counter spell, his eyes flashing gold as he stared at Morgana. From there, it was a battle of wills, Morgana fighting to retain the spell and Merlin to end it. In the end, Morgana let Arthur fall to the ground. Merlin knew that wasn't a good sign, but he pushed himself to his feet and went to Arthur anyway.

“Are you alright?”

“I just fell from a tower, Merlin, how do you think I am?”

“Well, if you're well enough to be a prat, clearly you're fine.”

Arthur didn't say anything as Merlin held out a hand to help him stand. He continued to not say anything as he decidedly ignored it and pushed himself to his feet. “Don't want to pull you down.” He muttered when Merlin raised an eyebrow. “Go back to Gaius, it's too dangerous out here.”

They both looked up, where Morgana was watching them. Merlin couldn't see her face, but he assumed there was a sneer there, something she'd grown used to wearing since her betrayal. Without warning, she turned her horse and rode away, presumably toward her army. Arthur watched her for a long moment, then turned to survey the damage. He swore under his breath and began limping toward the castle, avoiding the rubble.

“Come on, _Mer_ lin. We have to figure out how to secure the castle in the next hour.”

“We?” Merlin asked, grinning.

“Don't make me change my mind.”

M.M.M

Once arrangements were made to barricade the weak area of the wall as quickly and effectively as possible, Arthur followed Merlin's suggestion to see Gaius about his leg. Merlin accompanied him, in the hopes that there would be more potion for his pain. When they entered the room, Gaius frowned sternly.

“Merlin. That was reckless.”

“I already know, Arthur's told me.” Merlin lowered himself gingerly into a chair, cringing. The small amount of time on his feet had completely worn him out, and the potion didn't seem to have lasted as long as Gaius had told him it would. Granted, he'd used a fair bit of magic, which could have used it up faster... Whatever the case he needed a pick-me-up.

Arthur was sitting on a chair opposite Merlin, with Gaius poking and prodding at his left leg. Arthur flinched a few times, but did his best to keep his composure and not let the pain show on his face. When Gaius finally stood, he shook his head.

“It's badly bruised, sire, but I can't see any signs of serious damage. I'll just wrap it for stability.”

“I need to be able to fight on it.”

“Of course, sire.” In a normal situation, Merlin knew that Gaius would recommend bed rest, perhaps prescribe some medication. But they were so close to a war that no one could afford it, and everyone in the room recognized that. So Gaius wrapped Arthur's leg, quickly, so it wouldn't bother him quite as much during the battle.

“You'll have to return once this is over, so I can check it.” Arthur nodded as Gaius' request. “Merlin, I drew up a few drafts of that potion. Take one now and keep the others with you. You'll need them.”

“He doesn't need to take them if he stays.” Arthur stood, clearly favoring his right leg.

Merlin glared at Arthur. “You know-”

“I do know. You won't listen. Doesn't mean I can't still order you to. I have to try to be a good king.”

“Good luck.” Merlin smirked at Arthur, who gave him a half smile before he started limping out the door.

“Gaius, be ready. I fear we'll be seeing a good number of injuries this time.”

“Of course, sire.”

“Merlin, I expect you to stay here. On the off chance that you don't listen, just keep yourself out of trouble, alright?”

“Yeah.”

“I'm going to check again to be sure, but I understand there weren't any other injuries from the attack.”

“That's fortunate.” Gaius answered, although they all knew the danger of that.

“I'm concerned by what that means. Thank you, Gaius.”

He limped out of the room, cursing an injury before the real battle began. It wasn't so terrible, he told himself. And for whatever reason, Morgana had saved him from what was certain to have been a quick death. The frown on his face, an almost constant companion for the time being, deepened. He used to understand Morgana. Now it seemed he could never understand her, and a part of him was saddened by that.

He went to Gwen first, to assure her that he wasn't hurt. She was busy helping the women and children get to a safe place before the real battle began. He found her calmly talking to a crying child, and Arthur watched with a small smile as she slowly talked the child not only into going, but smiling about it. He reflected on how much he loved her, and why little things like this made his heart warm even in the midst of what was sure to be a very bloody battle.

“Arthur, thank goodness you're alright.” She smiled brightly at him, then frowned as she noticed the limp he had been trying to hide. “Not completely alright, though.”

“It's nothing, Gwen.”

“That better be true.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and hugged him. “I've got to keep going, but it's good to see you.”

“Is everything going well?”

“Yes, as well as can be expected. They're nervous, obviously, and some of the children are scared, but that's what happens.”

“But no fights?”

“Nothing I can't handle, Arthur. Go worry about your job, I've got mine under control.” She smiled at him, and after a brief hug turned back toward the people she was directing. Arthur watched her for a moment more before he set off to check the status of the wall.

He discovered the status of the wall was not good. They wouldn't be able to make it any kind of secure before Morgana arrived, so while he allowed those men building to continue, he also assigned a few guards to the area. He'd ask one of the knights to come as well, when the time came.

A hand went through his hair. He'd have to stop that habit. After this was all finished.

Next to see to all the places he had posted knights. No news from any of them, only questions into Arthur's health. He allayed their fears that he was seriously injured and moved on each time. Nothing. No more movement around the castle. No more signs of magic. Nothing. But they had hardly any time before the army would be visible, so he wouldn't let himself relax.

He was surprised to see Merlin in his rooms, although he supposed he shouldn't have been. His armor was laying out on the table, ready to be worn.

“Merlin, you don't have to help me-”

“You can't do it yourself, can you?”

Arthur smirked at Merlin. “How long have you been waiting here?”

“Not long.” Arthur knew the boy was lying, but he just shook his head and stepped forward, allowing Merlin to begin putting his armor on. It went much faster than that first time, way back when. Merlin was a completely different person from then, honestly, but still a disobedient little shit. That made the king smile.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You know there's a war about to happen, yeah? Smiling isn't a common reaction.”

“Then I'm having a mental breakdown. Really, Merlin, it's nothing.”

Merlin thought Arthur couldn't see the mocking face he made, and Arthur let him think that. He didn't want to get into it right then.

“Don't leave the castle unless you're in danger, do you understand? You're still not well enough to be anywhere near this battle.”

“Someone's concerned.” Merlin muttered as he strapped the pauldron to Arthur's shoulder.

“Yes, I am.”

Merlin was quiet at those words. He knew he couldn't do as Arthur asked, of course. He had to be there, to protect his king and his friends. They wouldn't be able to fight Morgana and the other sorcerers, and they'd be completely vulnerable to a magic attack. Which meant he also couldn't tell Arthur he'd be around, for fear that the king would discover his magic. So he just nodded, noncommittal, and hoped Arthur assumed he would listen this once.

“You've suffered enough this battle, Merlin. You don't need anymore.”

“I'm fine-”

“Merlin.”

“I'm good.”

“You're not.”

“Well... good enough.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and took his sword belt from Merlin, putting it on himself. “'Good enough' isn't acceptable, not now.”

“Yes, sire.”

Arthur gave him a strange look, but he didn't have a chance to say anything before Leon stuck his head in the door. “Arthur, they've been spotted. It's time.”

Arthur nodded at Leon and returned his attention to Merlin. “Please. Don't do anything stupid.” He didn't wait for a response, running to follow Leon to wherever he was supposed to be. Merlin waited until he was good and gone before leaving the room and going the opposite direction of the king. He wandered to the courtyard and sat in an alcove, hidden to anyone who wasn't looking. From there, he could watch what was happening in the battle, and, hopefully, no one would see him using his magic.

Everything was silent, almost painfully so. Everyone was waiting for the first move to be made, watching the enemy, standing frozen in their places. Merlin knew this was what Arthur hated most; the calm immediately before the storm. The few moments before all hell broke loose.

Merlin waited with everyone else.

M.M.M

Gwaine escorted Amethyst to the other archers, who were solemn as they stared at the enemy army gathering. She was the same; her bow in one hand, an arrow in her other, she kept her head high as she took her place and waited. Gwaine watched her for a moment, debating if he needed to say something. She wouldn't stay here, probably everyone except Arthur knew that. But he also didn't want to be the one to keep her, not when there were other things for him to-

He stumbled and fell to his knees as a throb of pain echoed through his body, stemming from his shoulder. His breath came in pants as another wave made its way through his body, and another. Amethyst was at his side, demanding to know what was wrong, but he didn't have any answers for her. He was healed, Merlin had healed him. There was nothing more to be done, he'd been sure, but the pain that came now said otherwise. Merlin must have missed something, or...

It was in that moment that his body began picking itself up, and Gwaine had no idea how it had happened. His lips formed the words, “I'm fine.” But he wasn't, and he wouldn't lie in a situation as critical as this was.

When he began leaving, against his will, he started panicking, but only inside his head. His body seemed to have a will of its own, and no matter what he tried he couldn't seem to regain control. He was a prisoner now, something was happening to him, probably magic- probably Morgana.

The string of curses that went through Gwaine's head were more appropriate now than ever before in his life.

When a guard stopped him to ask a question, alone in a dark corridor, Gwaine – not Gwaine – took a knife from his belt and pushed it deep into the boy's side. He could see the confusion, the hurt in the guards eyes as he fell to his knees, clutching at the bleeding wound. He wouldn't last long enough to tell anyone.

Gwaine screamed inside his head as he realized he had been the first to take a life in this battle.

 


	24. Chapter 24

Arthur and his knights waited for the messenger that rode across the empty space between them. When they finally received the piece of paper and made sure the messenger wasn't a sorcerer meant to kill them all, Arthur carefully unrolled it and read, “Last chance to hand over the sorcerer.”

He handed the message to Leon and asked, “Did we ever figure out who the sorcerer supposedly inside our walls is?”

“No sir.”

“But she wouldn't call of the attack even if we did.”

“I doubt it.”

Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Then I suppose we have no choice. We ride out to meet them. Be sure the men are ready. This will be a long one.”

“Yes sire.” Leon left, rushing to every posting to inform them of the news. Arthur leaned against the wall, letting himself be relaxed for one moment before he began what promised to be a non-stop battle.

“Alright?” Arthur hadn't noticed Percival until the bigger man spoke.

“Yeah. Of course.”

What Arthur appreciated most about Percival was his willingness to leave lies well enough alone, when it was best for everyone involved. Arthur didn't want to talk about his insecurities or fears. Percival knew that, and probably didn't care to hear them anyway.

They stood there, waiting, for what seemed like forever, although only a few minutes could have passed. When Leon returned, he had mounted his horse and had a hand on his sword. Percival was beside him on his right, and Leon, once he'd mounted, took the king's left.

“Where's Gwaine?” Arthur asked, his eyes ahead.

“He was with Queen Amethyst, last anyone saw.” Leon answered.

Arthur nodded. “Have someone fetch him, and meet us. We can't wait for him.”

Leon turned toward one of the footmen, leaning off his horse, and muttered the request. The man on the ground nodded and took off to find the missing knight.

“Let's ride out.” Arthur said, quietly, solemnly. He wanted to give them a speech, help his men feel more prepared for what was to come, but there was nothing he could say in that moment. So they left the protection of Camelot's walls in the interest of protecting them.

Morgana's army began to move at the same time as Arthur's, and they crashed together with war cries in between the two camps. Almost immediately afterwards the sound of wails from wounded men filled the air, and for the moment, it was solely steel on steel or flesh, the kind of battle Arthur was well able to handle. It was when the sorcerers began their work that Arthur felt the real fear, deep down where he didn't let anyone see it.

It started with an explosion of fire in the right flank, sending men running because they were literally burning alive. Arthur gritted his teeth and, while he couldn't ignore it, attempted to push that information to the back of his mind so he could concentrate on staying alive.

From there on out, there were numerous magical attacks. Most only affected one or two people, but there were some that took out large numbers. Arthur wasn't making enough of an impact on the troops with just his sword alone, and if it went on like this the battle wouldn't be so long after all. He gritted his teeth and tried to fight harder, make a bigger difference, but that only resulted in a long cut up his thigh. It wasn't too serious, his armor had stopped the brunt of the damage, but it was still painful. He could handle it, though. He wasn't among the dead, or those dying a slow, painful death on the battlefield with no one to help.

Arthur met Morgana's eyes, and she smiled at him. Some of the old Morgana was left in the curve of her lips, but her eyes were filled with anger and a hate that had never been there before. He didn't have long to watch her muttering words as a man threw his sword toward the king, in a desperate hope to be the one to slay the ruler of Camelot. Arthur frowned and dispatched him, quickly and easily, wishing he didn't have to.

Arthur stumbled forward as someone bumped him from behind and fell to the ground. He barely managed to get his sword back up in time to keep his head on his shoulders. But, from his position on his knees, he was at a disadvantage, and he found his sword slipping closer to him as his opponent pushed his weight down. It was looking bad when the pressure suddenly stopped, and the man fell to the side. Arthur was relieved to see Gwaine's face.

“Thanks.” Arthur said as he stood, but only had a moment before he was forced to continue in the fight.

He fell forward at the pain of a pommel striking him just below the neck.

M.M.M

Merlin had watched Arthur ride out, and had used magic to enhance his vision so he could continue to watch. He'd stood when the fight became real, stumbling forward and getting as close to the battle as he could without leaving the castle. Before long, Gwaine rode out, hard on the heels of Camelot's men. He didn't say anything to Merlin, but the boy assumed that was because he was focused. The boy wouldn't want to ruin that, not when he was heading out to battle.

The armies met and dissolved into each other. Merlin knew how quickly the ground beneath them would turn to mud, and how dangerous that would become. So he kept his eyes on Arthur, even though the king had much more experience than Merlin, and saw him fall. He took a few steps forward until Gwaine was there, saving the king. Merlin sighed deeply until he saw the way Gwaine stood, watching Arthur, and then watched the sword rise and fall on Arthur.

Merlin stumbled several more steps forward, questioning why the knight would do something like that, what could possibly be going through Gwaine's mind, how to save them both without injuring either.

He didn't get the choice, when it came down to it. The sound of a horse came just before Morgana's voice, a cruel laugh in her voice. “How's your king?” She asked. She didn't even bother stopping the horse before leaping off, taking a few steps to keep her balance. When she stopped she was close to Merlin.

“What did you do to Gwaine?”

She just smirked. “What better way to beat Camelot than make it beat itself?”

“Gwaine won't do it-”

“Gwaine doesn't have a choice.”

Merlin just stared at Morgana, but she didn't do the same. With a flash of her eyes, Merlin's legs gave out beneath him. It wasn't painful, inherently, but the shock to his torso was.

“You could have avoided this. You only had to tell me where-”

“Don't lie, Morgana. You would have attacked anyway.”

“Well, I can't let Arthur have his way with my kingdom, can I?” There was a smirk in her voice, but Merlin stared at the ground, taking the deep breaths he needed to get himself back on track. While she was talking, he could prepare. He could do something.

“What, no response? Nothing to say? You usually have a smart remark for everything.”

Merlin moved quickly, grabbing the sword at Morgana's waist, but she grabbed his arm and threw him to the ground. He made another move, and Morgana pulled his wrist behind his back and twisted, pulling Merlin against her chest as she muttered, “You can't beat me, Merlin.”

“You can't beat Arthur.” He muttered, and she yanked his arm painfully. He didn't cry out, because that would only fuel her, but he wanted to.

“Gwaine won't stop until Arthur's dead, and your king won't want to kill his knight.”

“Someone will help him-”

“Arthur's weak. He'll want to save Gwaine, he won't let someone kill him.”

Merlin struggled against Morgana, but she just held him tighter.

“You know it's the truth.”

“That doesn't make him weak.” Merlin muttered.

“It will make him dead.”

Merlin felt the magic inside him, angered and raring to go. But he didn't have a chance to unleash it before he felt magic being used upon him. Morgana's arm dragged him back as she flew backwards, and when she lost her grip on him he fell. Hard. He felt his head hit something hard and spent some time too dazed to register what was going on around him. When he finally did, he saw a man with dark brown hair and a light beard, dressed in ragged clothes and a worn brown cloak. He was sitting over Merlin, a frown on his face. His eyes were pale blue, and they were concerned.

“Ye' alright, lad?” He asked, a slight lilt of an accent in his voice.

“Morgana-”

“She ran away when I showed up. Betcha she's lookin' fer some help.”

“Help?” Merlin felt his head swimming. It seemed the man noticed that, and he put a hand to Merlin's forehead and his eyes flashed gold in response to the healing spell he said. Merlin frowned at him even as the world sat still in front of him again. “Who are you?”

“The name's Jeremy. Thought I'd help you out.”

“Thanks.” Merlin sat up, cringing slightly. The excitement seemed to have opened one of his wounds.

“Sorry about that. Seems I'm responsible.”

Merlin frowned again, until he put the information together. Morgana running away, this man's appearance with magic, Morgana looking for a sorcerer in Camelot. “You're-?”

“Yeah. But we can talk when Camelot's safe, yeah?”

Merlin nodded and pressed a hand against his side as he stood. He managed to heal it enough to stop the bleeding, and that was what he needed just then.

“Listen, Morgana and I've got a score, so I'll go deal with her, yeah? She doesn't need to know about you yet.”

Merlin wanted to argue. After all, he had a large score to settle with Morgana as well. But he needed to go to Arthur first, and this was, hopefully, a blessing. He didn't know Jeremy, he knew nothing about this man who had appeared out of nowhere, but at least if Merlin was with Arthur, he could protect the king. So even if this Jeremy ended up on her side, he could keep Arthur safe.

So he nodded at Jeremy.

“I'll keep her away from you.” He gave Merlin a nod before he ran, following the path Merlin assumed Morgana had taken.

He couldn't stay back anymore. Merlin had to be there, with Arthur, or there was no way he could adequately keep the king safe. So he started toward Arthur, keeping an eye on the king and praying he was enough.

M.M.M

Amethyst was following orders, shooting when told, picking her targets well, but she wasn't going to stay long.

Anyone who knew anything about her had to realize she wasn't satisfied with sitting back and doing the safe job. Granted, with the attack the castle walls took earlier, no one was sure they would be safe. But this was too safe for the independent queen.

She took one more shot before putting her bow over her shoulder and slipping away. She heard some mutters, questioning where she thought she was going, but no one dared challenge her. After al, she outranked them all, and they hadn't heard Arthur's orders.

She didn't run – there was no point expending all of her energy before she got to the battle – but she couldn't help her quickened footsteps as she made her way to her room. There she grabbed her sword belt, securing it around her waist and lightly patting the pommel. She would keep the bow, as long as she could, but she planned on using her sword.

The only people running around the castle now were those waiting for injured and the injured, and they were all too distracted to notice the queen making her way to the source of the battle.

Except Gwen. Gwen noticed her and called her name. She waited until Gwen caught up with her.

“Arthur asked you to stay here.”

“I'm not going to sit and watch. I can stop some of my people doing battle, and the rest... it's my job to get them back in line. Arthur only has a small part of this.”

“Arthur likes to be protective.”

“I don't need protecting.”

“Oh, I know.” Gwen smiled. “But he's my husband, and to me it's adorable. For you, though, it's just annoying, I'm sure.”

“Yes.” Amethyst raised her eyebrow at Gwen, the queen of Camelot. “You aren't here to stop me.”

“I'm here to ask you to watch over him? He's overbearing, at times, but he means well. And Morgana will make it hard on him.”

“Why don't you go?”

“Oh, I know I'm better here anyway. Otherwise I'd be doing the same as you.”

Amethyst smiled at Gwen, a knowing smile. She hadn't realized the queen of Camelot was so strong, in herself. She had respected Arthur's choice to marry a woman he loved, had approved of it wholeheartedly even though Uther was angry about it. But she had assumed this was a woman who was prone to subservience, because of her station and because of what Uther had instilled in his son. She was pleasantly surprised to know the woman was strong beneath her husband, and was willing to do what it took.

Amethyst put her hands on the younger queen's shoulders. “I'm glad to have met you, Guinevere.” Then she turned and left, making her way to the battle with the queen of Camelot's approval. Somehow, that meant more than she had thought it could.

M.M.M

Arthur rolled over in time to put his vambrace up, but the force of the sword pushed his arm down and surely bruised it beneath the metal. He looked up at Gwaine, his face confusion bordering on hurt at the attack. Gwaine's face was blank, and there was something in his eyes... Arthur immediately understood that it wasn't Gwaine. Gwaine wouldn't do this, if only because it would hurt Merlin. Arthur had no delusions, Gwaine cared much more for the manservant than the king, but even so Gwaine had come to be a friend to Arthur, and the king was certain it went both ways.

“Gwaine, come on, fight it.” Arthur managed to get the words out between gritted teeth. “You're a knight of Camelot.”

Gwaine didn't say anything, just pressed down harder. Arthur felt the sweat on his forehead as he struggled to push against the sword, but it was a losing battle. He knew there was nothing he could do to stop Gwaine, not in that position.

“Damn it, Gwaine, you can fight this! You're stronger than Morgana, you and I both know it.” The sword point was dangerously close to his face, and though Arthur pressed himself to the ground even as he used all of his strength to push against Gwaine, the blade kept creeping closer. The enemy was keeping his allies occupied and far enough away that they couldn't help him. Morgana wasn't going to let her plan be foiled, not when she was so close. If he died, she would have the advantage. She could take the throne she believed belonged to her.

Arthur closed his eyes, coming to terms with what seemed imminent. He wasn't giving up. But he didn't want to be afraid during his last moments.

When the pressure stopped suddenly, Arthur opened his eyes and was surprised to see not Gwaine bearing down on him, but Merlin beside him. There was a club hanging loosely in one hand, and Gwaine was laying on the ground, unmoving.

“ _Mer_ lin, what are you doing? You're supposed to be helping Gaius.”

“I'm saving you, obviously. Someone needs to do it.” Merlin didn't turn as he spoke, nor did he offer to help Arthur to his feet. The king frowned as he stood, grabbing his sword from where he'd dropped it and watching Gwaine as he subconsciously took stock of the people around him. 

“You didn't-”

“He's alive.”

“Why isn't he moving?”

“He... he can't.”

“Because?”

“He's, ah, asleep.”

“Asleep?” The skepticism in Arthur's voice oozed around the words. 

“Don't you have people to fight? Go do it. I'll handle Gwaine.”

“ _Mer_ lin, unless you've improved – no, there's no way you could have, so unless you have magic-”

Merlin flinched at the words, and Arthur frowned. He slowly stepped around the manservant, and when he saw the gold eyes he shook his head.

“Merlin, stop that.”

“If I stop that, Gwaine will keep trying to kill you. Sire.”

Arthur stepped away, and continued walking, until he had found another enemy to fight. Because he could deal with the fighting, the pain, even the death of a battle. He couldn't deal with the information that was coming up again after he'd tried to hard to forget about it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendlies! Thank you for your continued support! I hope you don't entirely hate me for Gwaine. I don't like it either.


	25. Chapter 25

It was difficult, knowing that Arthur was walking away at the knowledge of Merlin's magic. Difficult, but a bit of a relief. After all, Arthur could have decided to do something about it right then. He'd never expect it from the king, of course, expected a little hesitation and confusion, but... it could have been worse. And he had other problems to deal with at the moment.

Gwaine was struggling against him, pushing against the magic that kept him on the ground. Merlin felt the sweat as he worked to keep Gwaine contained, but something in the curse must have made the knight stronger. It hardly seemed like enough time before Gwaine broke free, grabbing his sword and standing in one smooth motion. Merlin stumbled backwards, running through other plans in his head, but there wasn't a whole heck of a lot he felt able to do without hurting the knight.

Gwaine didn't seem to recognize Merlin at all, and began to move toward Arthur. When Merlin moved in his way, he snarled. It was wrong, to see that look on Gwaine's face, but Merlin didn't let that shake him any. Now that Arthur knew about his magic, he wasn't afraid to use it. He'd deal with the consequences later.

He raised his hand and his eyes glowed, but before he could finish the spell Gwaine kicked at one of Merlin's legs. The boy tumbled to the ground, his breath catching in his throat at the jarring impact. Gwaine stood over him, his eyes still completely blank. The sword was raised. Merlin put his hands up as Gwaine pushed it down, and he felt the blade tear through of his right palm and stop. It was an effort to stop himself from crying out, and when he looked up he saw Gwaine's face stuck in a frown, his hands frozen.

“Gwaine?” Merlin was ashamed when his voice was on the verge of tears, and that seemed to break something in the knight. Or at least, in the curse on the knight.

There was only a second before the knight fell, his sword tearing further at Merlin's hand before it too hit the ground. Merlin immediately clutched his hand to his chest, his breathing coming in sharp gasps as he tried to control himself.

“Are you alright?” Merlin hadn't been expecting to hear Amethyt's voice, but he was certainly glad she was there. Gwaine seemed to be out cold, and Amethyst was already using a rope to tie his hands.

Merlin took a deep breath and nodded. “I'll live.”

“Good. Any idea how we fix him?”

Merlin took another deep breath, calming himself in the midst of a war. “Probably need Morgana.”

Amethyst nodded and began on Gwaine's feet. “We need to get him somewhere out of the way where he can't do anymore damage.” She looked at Merlin, noticed the blood covering his hand, and amended, “I need to find somewhere. You need to go find Gaius”

'I'll be fine.”

“No. You are hurt, and you will go to Gaius and be bandaged, at the very least.”

Merlin recognized Arthur in her tone, and instantly he felt a twinge of hurt in his gut as he remembered the look the king had given him after his magic...

“Merlin. We'll figure this out. You need to go.”

Merlin nodded and rose, watching Amethyst grip Gwaine beneath the arms and start dragging him. She was a lot stronger than she looked, certainly. He watched for only a second before he took off. He wasn't ready to go be healed. He had to fix this first.

Morgana would not be allowed to continue her reign of cruelty any longer.

M.M.M

Amethyst dragged Gwaine as far as she could before she had to rest. At least she was out of the battle, and Gwaine was still out. She couldn't take him into the castle, not in the state he was. She couldn't let him be a danger to the already injured there. But she couldn't leave him in the middle of nowhere, either. She couldn't let him get hurt.

She had finally gotten her breath back and moved to touch Gwaine when he groaned. She froze, staring at him. If he was waking up, it would be a test of her knot tying ability, and she wasn't too keen on that. She had taught herself in that, and while it had held when she was using it for everyday things, she didn't think that would be the case against a bulky knight.

He looked at her, and she saw something different in his eyes – pain, anger, and perhaps a little grief. She knelt next to him, careful not to get too close.

“Gwaine?”

“Help.” His voice was a rasp, and it seemed to be a fight to get the words out. “Stop it. Please.” Clearly it was painful for him, even to do so little. She put a hand, hesitantly, on his cheek, meeting his gaze.

“How? Tell me how to help you.”

“Curse. Morgana. Merlin-” He cringed, and Amethyst shook her head.

“Stay with me Gwaine. What does Merlin need to do?”

“Magic?” He didn't know, it seemed, but he hoped... Amethyst wished that was the case, but from what Merlin had said, there was no way aside from forcing Morgana to cease the spell she'd cast.

“He can't, he told me-”

Gwaine nodded once and closed his eyes. “Dungeons. Please.”

Amethyst watched him for a moment before she nodded. “But I'm not taking any chances, Gwaine. Alright?”

Gwaine nodded. So she took her sword, pommel down, and, after a moment's hesitation, used it to knock Gwaine out cold once more. His whole body went slack, and she felt hideously guilty. She wouldn't let that stop her, though. So she took him to the castle, demanding the help of two knights when she met them. They took Gwaine upon themselves and rushed, and Amethyst turned back towards the battle. She wanted Gwaine to be alright, of course. She cared about the man, and she was angry that this was happening to him. But she had a score to settle with Morgana, and she wasn't going to let anything keep her from that.

M.M.M

Arthur had almost completely forgotten about Merlin as he focused solely on taking down his enemies.

It was an intense battle, there was no question about that. He would take down one opponent and immediately two more would take his place. And everyone, it seemed, wanted a piece of the king. Of course, it only made sense because it was Morgana leading the charge, and she would fill anyone who would listen with hatred of Arthur. He didn't have time to be saddened by that. That was one thing a battle would do – cleanse the king of any and all emotion except the desire to live and to win.

It was working very well until he heard Morgana's scream. It wasn't in pain, however, but glee. She'd found something she wanted, and that was bad news to any enemy of the high priestess. He began fighting his way toward her, hoping to catch her off guard and deal with her quickly. He needed this battle to last as short a time as possible, because he needed his kingdom to go back to normal and... he still didn't want to think about Merlin, or magic, or anything related. But at least he wouldn't have a war to deal with on top of it.

When he reached Morgana, he was panting, but the king could see his once sister. She was staring at a man, and they were clearly having some kind of conversation, but Arthur had no idea what it was about. The man had a cloak, the hood drawn up to hide his face, but the glee on Morgana's said she knew exactly who stood in front of her.

Arthur didn't need help putting two and two together. This must be the sorcerer that was hiding in Camelot. There were a lot of questions circling the king's head, but he pushed them all aside. If they lived through this, he would ask then.

He watched as the hooded man raised a hand, in which he produced a large, blue flame. Morgana laughed and shook her head, clearly making fun of the man. Arthur took this as his chance and, quietly, as quickly as he could without making sound, he began toward Morgana, sword in hand.

“-been trying this for years, and it's never worked. Why should it now?” Morgana's condescending voice was the same as it always had been, but now it wasn't directed at Arthur.

“Morgana, you've ruined enough lives, haven't you?” His voice was tired, weary of the argument. Arthur hadn't known his sister had a recurring enemy apart from him.

“And how many times have you ruined mine?”

“Only when you've been hell-bent on hurting someone else. You know this.”

“I know you have done far worse than I for far less, and yet now you try to persecute me.”

“Love is not far less.”

“One person is.”

Arthur had reached his sister, could almost see beneath the hood of her opposition. He raised his sword, but found he couldn't bring it back down again. His body was frozen in place, and Morgana slowly turned to look at him.

“Arthur. Now my two least favorite people are in the same place. Good of you to join us.” Her sneer was so close to his face that he could feel her breath. “Did you honestly think I didn't notice you? You're not as good as you like to think, _brother_.”

“Morgana.” Arthur muttered between gritted teeth. “Get the hell out of my kingdom.”

“Haven't I told you? It isn't yours. It's mine.”

Morgana yelped suddenly and turned, so Arthur could see the burned cloth on her back. She glared at the other man, and Arthur's body was released so suddenly that he fell to his knees.

“Jeremy, it isn't nice to attack a lady from behind.”

“Then it shouldn't be a problem, Morgana, if I attack you.”

Arthur could visualize the look on her face as she scowled and shouted a stream of what seemed like nonsense at the man. Arthur watched as Jeremy stumbled backwards, his hands outstretched to stop the blow. Then he threw one back in return. Arthur was once again ignored, but he felt weak. It was as if the spell Morgana had used had sapped him of his strength, and now crawling the short distance to where his sword had fallen seemed like too much. Nevertheless, he did so, barely avoiding a stray bit of magic. His fingers wrapped around the pommel just before it was yanked from his grasp. He looked up into the face of a woman, her eyes glowing gold as the sword flew to her hand. She grinned at him, a wicked grin, and began speaking the words of magic. Arthur curled himself into a ball, hoping to avoid the brunt of the damage she was about to inflict on him.

M.M.M

Merlin stumbled through the battlefield, ducking to avoid swords, arrows, daggers... anything that could do him harm. It seemed no one was overly worried about him, which was one of the upsides of being a lanky, thin boy with an innocent face. After all, with knights to contend with, one servant wearing a red scarf in support of his kingdom was hardly worth noticing.

It wasn't until he reached a group of sorcerers that he was forced to stop. They noticed him, and while most seemed to move on to more pressing targets, there was one boy, seemingly younger than Merlin, who continued to stare. Merlin assumed it was just because of his lack of armor or bulk, but after a moment he felt his feet leave the ground and he was held there. He frowned. He'd been expecting an attack, but instead he was just...  _floating_ . He was about to make some counterattack when the boy began walking toward him, his eyes fixed on Merlin's. When he was a few feet away, he stopped.

“Do I know you?” He asked quietly. Merlin stared at the boy, then shook his head. He wasn't sure what the right answer was, but he decided on the truth. The boy analyzed him through dark brown eyes, set beneath pale blonde hair and arched eyebrows. He was small, covered in a deep black cloak that touched the ground as he walked. Finally, he seemed to accept Merlin's answer.

“Oh. Alright.” His eyes flashed, but instead of gold as Merlin was used to seeing, they were a deep, dark red that burned an image into Merlin's retinas even as he felt pain rip through his body. He couldn't even get the scream out, he was paralyzed by it, but his entire body felt as if it was being pulled apart, piece by piece. 

Merlin's eyes flashed gold and the boy fell to the ground, his legs giving out beneath him. Immediately the pain stopped, and Merlin fell to the ground, curling in on himself as memories of the pain flashed through him in crippling waves.

He felt his magic seething beneath his skin, begging to take out the boy that had done this, but Merlin found himself unable to move for a time. He could feel, rather than sense, the boy walking up to him, completely unfazed by the fall he'd taken moments before. He hardly managed to glance up when the boy stopped.

“Emrys, hmm?” Merlin started at the use of his druid name, what some believed to be his true name. “I don't think I want to kill you yet.” The boy said nothing more, just turned and left. Merlin watched him walk past the sorcerers, and continue, completely leaving the battle.

Merlin remained on the ground for some time, regaining himself. When he finally roused himself enough to stand, a group of knights had come for the sorcerers, who were apparently much weaker without the boy. That thought made Merlin nervous, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. He had no doubt that the boy had been truthful when he spoke of not killing Merlin yet, and somehow knew that he wouldn't be returning to aid Morgana. So when he finally had the strength to move again, he continued toward Morgana. It wasn't a good sign that he felt worse than before that encounter, but he still had a job to do.

When he reached Morgana, he saw Arthur there, and he saw the sorcerer above the king. He didn't even think as he sent the woman flying. She hit her head hard and stayed down. Merlin wanted to rush to Arthur, to make sure he was uninjured, but there was nothing he could do. It was likely that Arthur didn't even want to look at him just then, and so he turned his attention to Jeremy and Morgana. Morgana threw a blast of fire at the man, who used a spell to counteract it. He kept a blue flame on his right hand, letting it burn at the air but not using it. Merlin frowned. That would be exhausting, but there didn't seem to be any reason for it. 

He didn't have long to sit and watch. Morgana managed to make a hit on Jeremy that brought him to his knees as a burn broke out across his chest. Merlin used the opportunity to throw a burst of energy at Morgana, which caught her well enough off guard that she stumbled to the ground. She turned toward Merlin, a spark in her eyes. 

“ _Merlin_?” She asked, staring at the boy with an amused smirk on her face. “Of all the people... _You_?”

“What are you talking about?” Merlin asked, staring her down as she laughed. He could see Arthur struggling to his feet out of the corner of his eye, and Jeremy behind the high priestess was carefully sealing his wound.

“I knew there was a powerful sorcerer in Camelot, but... _You_? I assumed it had to be Jeremy over there, but he's not really very strong, just a constant annoyance...” Her face fell from a strange sort of glee to anger almost instantly. “And you hid it from me. All that time you watched me struggling.”

“I couldn't tell anyone.”

“Neither could I, of course, but I told you. I trusted you. Apparently none of us should have.”

Merlin waited for her to make the first move, watching her carefully. Arthur was back on his feet, but he seemed to weak to be of much help. Jeremy's wound had to have been severe, because he was still on the ground. Merlin wanted to go sleep for a week, but he had no choice; it was his job to deal with Morgana, once and for all.

When she began chanting in the language of the Old Religion, Merlin did the same, and soon they were in the battle that could determine the fate of Camelot.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, there's a lot of stuff going on in this chapter. But it's boiling down to the end, so that's nice. Hope you enjoyed!


	26. Chapter 26

Amethyst saw the battle as she ran, saw all the blood that was being spilled. When she saw a knight that was once close to her, she slowed down and stopped him from an attack on one of Camelot's knights.

“Lawrence, you will put that sword to better use.” Her voice was quiet as she stood beside the Camelot knight, a man she had never before met.

“Your majesty-?” He dropped his sword and bowed his head. “You-”

“Explanations can come later. Spread the word that we are _not_ at war with Camelot, but Morgana. Any who attack Camelot will be exiled from Amira, if I learn they didn't stop once they heard.”

“Of course, Your majesty.”

“And you.” She turned to the knight of Camelot, who seemed a little shock to be addressed. “You will not attack unless attacked, do you understand? I want as little death as possible.” When the knight hesitated, clearly unsure if he should be taking orders from a foreign queen, she added, “I'm sure Arthur will agree, and he'll be more than angry if you don't _do as I say_.” That's when he finally nodded, turning his attention elsewhere.

When she was satisfied that they'd both listened to her, she continued on. Several times she paused in her trek to convince knights to stop fighting, and a few of those times they neither one listened and she almost got herself killed. But she didn't mind overly, so long as she could stop some of the death that surrounded her. These people, for the most part, shouldn't be fighting. It was a lie, a ploy so Morgana could get what she wanted. That was unacceptable.

She stopped as often as she dared to settle fights, but she didn't feel she had the time to properly put things to rest. She needed to reach Morgana. Once the witch was dead, the battle would fade and die out. They could make proper explanations then, and hopefully create a prosperous alliance between Camelot and Amira. Besides, Morgana had to pay for what she was doing, had already done, and for weeks of being kept prisoner.

She thought she must be seeing things when she finally found Morgana. Arthur was standing to the side, although it seemed to be quite the effort to do just that. Merlin and Morgana were staring at each other, their mouths moving quickly in spells that no doubt were more powerful than the queen wanted to think about. Those things she hadn't expected to see, but they weren't all that surprising. What made her question her sanity was the man on the ground, carefully using magic to heal a nasty looking wound on his chest. His face was half in shadow, but she would recognize him anywhere. After all, she'd been in love with him.

She stumbled forward a few steps before she broke into a run, tearing past people in a desperate, reckless attempt to prove that this wasn't all in her head. Because she needed it to be real. She needed to be caught in his arms and feel him under her fingers. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

M.M.M

Arthur watched silently as Merlin and Morgana muttered their spells at each other. It was surreal, to see two people that were supposed to have been close to him, supposed to have been on his side against magic, using that very same magic to try to kill each other.

But Merlin had saved him from the sorcerer. He glanced over at the woman, who was lay perfectly still on the ground where she'd been thrown. He would have died at her hand, if not for Merlin. And if not for the nameless woman, he'd probably be dying at Morgana's. Merlin was protecting him.

But he'd also been lying the entire time... probably the entire time they'd known each other. And that was inexcusable, a clear sign of guilt. Or just a clear sign of not wanting to be burnt at the stake or beheaded.

It wasn't the time to think about that. There was still a battle raging around them, even if he'd been temporarily pulled out from the worst. His knights were fighting for their lives, and for their kingdom, and for a king who was watching magic in his own kingdom. He wasn't sure what that made him, but he couldn't stand idly by.

He was about to move when he saw Amethyst, standing a fair distance away and staring at the stillness between Merlin and Morgana. No... no, not that. She was staring at the man, who was still working to fix himself up. Arthur didn't have a chance to understand before she was running, her eyes focused only on the man. She didn't see that Morgana had noticed her, and that a small smirk had changed the expression on her face from one of focus to one of ill intent.

Arthur didn't know what compelled him to run towards her. Perhaps it was something inherent in his nature, something that he had to do because she was a woman and he was a man. Maybe it was because she had been kind to him for so many years, almost a replacement mother at times. Maybe it was just because she was in danger and he had to do something. Maybe it was because it was almost second nature to save people from Morgana anymore. It didn't really matter. He felt the adrenaline course through him, fighting off the weakness and fueling his legs so he could run faster, faster still, and catch the queen who was trying so hard to reach the man. She reached her before she reached him, and together they tumbled to the ground as a burst of light flew over their heads.

Amethyst lay there, stunned, for only a moment before she was pushing against Arthur, struggling to be free and make her way to the man.

“Let me _go_ , Pendragon-”

“Quiet.” Arthur forced his voice to be firm, ignoring the pleading and the desperate hope in her eyes. She would only be in danger if she continued, and nothing was worth that.

“Please, Arthur, please. He's... I need- I haven't- _please.”_

“If you would be safe, I would let you go. But you're not.”

“I'm not afraid-”

“I honestly don't care if you're afraid.” His voice might have been a little harder than he'd intended, but it quieted her continued protests. “Amira will need it's queen when this is all over, and it is your duty to see that happen.”

She stopped fighting him, clearly feeling the weight of her responsibility settle upon her shoulders once again. He carefully moved away from her and shifted his attention to Merlin. The boy was standing completely still, and while Arthur couldn't see his face he could see the tension in the manservant's shoulders. He was fighting hard, it seemed, even though he didn't appear to be doing anything. He supposed that was the way of magic, although it seemed weak.

He'd hardly turned his attention, but Amethyst had taken the chance to get up and begin moving. Arthur swore under his breath as he scrambled to his feet, but before he had a chance to move he dropped, avoiding another stray attack. Merlin yelled something and Morgana stumbled backwards, giving Arthur a chance to follow Amethyst before the witch regained her balance.

He reached her just as she reached the man, and he pulled her to the ground to make her a smaller target. He wanted to curse at her, demand that she listen to him because she clearly wasn't thinking, but he caught sight of the look that passed between the queen and the sorcerer.

“Jeremy.” It was a whisper, almost impossible to hear in the din of the battlefield.

His expression changed from fierce concentration to slack shock. Then a grin transformed the battleweary face into young joy, and Arthur felt the spark of recognition click. Jeremy. He barely remembered the man from his childhood, but he'd passed before Arthur had seen five winters. It wasn't possible... but the way she stared, the tenderness on her face, it took years away from her face and spoke of probable impossibility.

“You're alive.” She said, her voice still so quiet, so full of shock and joy and a million other emotions.

“I know.”

An understanding seemed to pass between them, and he returned to his healing and she turned to Arthur. “We need a plan.”

And, while Arthur was dying to understand what was happening, he nodded and began racking his brain for some way they could deal with the situation.

M.M.M

Merlin really wished Arthur and Amethyst would stop moving, as it was difficult enough to sustain the spell he was using without trying to predict where Morgana would be throwing her next spell. The magic he was attempting to weave would shield them from any more attacks, but she kept distracting him with stray spells that attempted to weave into his own, effectively rendering it useless. He was managing to push her out, for now. But it would certainly be a lot easier if they would just _keep still._

Ah. There. The shield was finally in place, and with quite a lot of heavy breathing Merlin lowered his arms and stared at her. She glared at him, but there was a touch of glee in her eyes. Just a touch.

“You _are_ strong.” There might have been a touch of admiration in those words, but Merlin didn't hear it. He was too busy panting, drawing air into tired lungs to power a tired body. The amount of magic he'd just exerted was a lot, but he deemed it necessary. Now he didn't have to worry about them, and she wouldn't be running off either. It was just the two of them.

“Stop this, Morgana.” Merlin hoped, desperately, that she would just listen. His words were weary, though not as weary as he felt. If only she would leave, go back to doing whatever she had been doing before the desire to attack Camelot had struck. But he knew her too well. He knew her stubbornness, but even more he knew her pain. So when she just laughed, he was prepared for the attack she threw at him, and raised a shield before it could hit.

“You could join me, Merlin. We could take Camelot together, rule over a land run by magic-”

“You tried to have me killed, Morgana.”

The woman frowned. “I've only ever wanted you as an ally.”

“Of course you did. Attempted murder and torture is my number one method for convincing allies to join my cause.”

“You seem to give me more credit than I deserve, sorcerer.” Morgana's use of the word made him cringe, even if any who could hear her knew already. It was still hard to hear said out loud.

“It doesn't matter, Morgana. I'm loyal to Camelot.”

“As am I.”

Merlin didn't even bother to answer. They both knew his opinion, and they both knew – well, at least Merlin knew that Morgana's loyalty was to herself, not the kingdom.

With a heavy sigh, Merlin threw magic at Morgana. It was a simple spell to throw her, the same that Morgana often used. She blocked it easily enough and threw a ball of fire back at him. He dodged it, letting it hit the shield and fizzle out. He released a spell that was more powerful, designed to knock her completely unconscious. When it hit, she did stumble, her eyes fluttering, but her will proved stronger than the spell and she forced herself to stay up.

“How did you hide this from me? From everyone, for so long?” She asked, clearly awed despite herself. Merlin didn't bother to answer. Words were a waste of energy, and he was clearly lacking in energy. His whole body wanted to just _stop_ , to give up and lie down, but he could see Arthur through the invisible shield. He had to protect the king, who had become his friend, even if Arthur never spoke to him again. Even if he was banished from Camelot, the place he had come to consider home. Even if Arthur did the worst and had him burned or beheaded, he would protect this place. Because this was the place that he had found true friends in good people, where he'd seen the impossible happen.

So he pulled all the strength he had left in himself and heaved a massive spell, a whirlwind of fire that swirled through the magical bubble around them.

M.M.M

Gwaine was dying.

Not literally, of course. He still had his own mind, although it was a struggle. But he could hear the battle happening, knew that his friends were out there risking their lives, and he wasn't able to protect them. If he was set free from this cell, he could be the one killing them.

He paced across the cell, one hand dragging against the bars as he made each pass. He should be helping them. Morgana was the reason he couldn't, Morgana was the reason it was happening, _Morgana_...

He slammed a fist against the wall before resting his forehead against it, taking deep breaths. If any of them died because he was locked up, if he finds out he could have saved someone...

It didn't matter. He couldn't be sure he'd be able to control himself out there, and he didn't want to put anyone else at risk. He sank to the floor, his hands clenching and unclenching. There was nothing he could do. Nothing. He had to keep reminding himself of that as he waited. Arthur would be fine. He'd get them through this. Merlin would keep him safe, and come out alright on the other side just like always.

He couldn't manage to convince himself that it would be the same this time. Part of that was his overactive imagination, coming up with the absolute worst scenarios possible. The other part was just a feeling, deep in his gut. He kept trying to tell himself that was what normal people felt, people who didn't go off to battle like he did, those who had to wait for their loved ones to come back. It wasn't something to be concerned about.

He didn't have any more luck convincing himself of that.

He looked up when he heard footsteps coming closer. No one else should be around, they'd left him here to go join the fight. He didn't have the means to get out, there was no need to watch him.

“Who's there?” He called, but he received no answer. So he waited, silently, his entire body tensed and prepared for whatever happened. He could still do a little damage, if they got too close or opened the door.

But he hoped they didn't open the door. He didn't want to endanger his friends.

The footsteps continued, and soon Gwaine was confronted by a young boy, his face concealed by the hood of a black cloak. He stopped in front of the cell, and Gwaine waited for him to speak. He didn't appear to belong in Camelot, certainly not the castle, but he was more concerned with where the boys parents were, and why he wasn't safe somewhere with them instead of wandering alone during a battle.

“Why are you in the dungeon?” He asked, and his voice was definitely young, much too young to be here.

“Where are your parents?” He asked, attempting to push the child where he belonged without literally pushing.

“They're dead.”

Gwaine gaped for a moment, and only a moment, he was proud to admit. The boy was so matter-of-fact, as if it didn't bother him at all. And he seemed much to young to be over it, unless they'd died when he was hardly old enough to retain memory... But why was he here?

“Kid, you've gotta get somewhere safe, there's a war going on outside-”

“Is it because of Morgana? Is that why you're in here?”

His words were too sweet sounding, completely innocent, and yet there was something about him that was dark. The fact that he knew about Morgana seemed wrong as well.

“Yes.” He answered honestly, hoping that would send him scurrying. Not just because it was dangerous anymore, if he was honest with himself. The kid was giving him the absolute creeps.

“I could fix that for you.”

“What?”

“I could fix it. I'm stronger than she is.”

“I'm sure you are, I'm sure you could save all of Camelot, but you've got to go somewhere safe.” Or leave so Gwaine was safe. Whatever would work for the knight. Something was definitely off about this kid.

“I could make it start again.” Suddenly his voice had lost the child-like quality, becoming heavy and dark, most certainly a threat. Gwaine backed away a few steps, sensing the deep menace that filled the childish body. “Emrys will fix you, but you could kill some others in the meantime. And he'll be too tired when he's finished, it'll take a while. If Arthur doesn't kill him first.”

“Why... why would you say that?” Gwaine tried to sound strong, and for the most part he succeeded: just a slight tremor, a mild stutter. But inside his stomach was churning and he was pushing back the fear that threatened to overwhelm him. Something told him the kid could make good on his threats.

“Because. It would be nice. It would make me happy.”

Gwaine didn't have a chance to protest before the boy nodded. “Yes, I think I like that.” It only took the boy a moment, and Gwaine could swear he saw red flash under the boy's hood before he felt the creeping sensation, felt his body being taken over by the hostile force. He managed only a moan before he had completely lost control again. And then the cell was open, the boy chuckling quietly as he watched Gwaine leave.

_Merlin, please stop me_ .

With that thought, he completely lost himself.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, loyal readers! I was struck with a lack of muse, as well as tiring work schedules and vacation time. I hope this chapter at least mildly makes up for the wait, and I hope you enjoy!


	27. Chapter 27

“We need to-”

Arthur stopped what he was about to say as he saw the bright light explode into existence where Merlin and Morgana were fighting. He stood abruptly, feeling fear wrench through his body. Merlin. There was no way he could survive something like that, no way-

He didn't even heed the conflicted part of himself, the part that told him a sorcerer _should_ burn. This was Merlin. _His Merlin_. Whatever he did, whatever he said, whatever stupid parts of himself he'd kept secret for the entirety of their friendship, it was still Merlin. And there was no way he wanted Merlin to die, especially not like this. Not thinking that Arthur hated him, at the hands of Morgana. Not giving his life up for the king who had stifled him for so many years. 

He stumbled forward, but Jeremy pulled him backwards and he fell down, hard. He turned to glare at the man, but he only pointed at the sphere of space that the two sorcerers occupied. There was Merlin, standing – about to fall over, but still standing and completely unharmed from the fire. Morgana was on her knees, choking on the residual smoke and with portions of her dress burned away. The flame still licked at her clothes in a few places, and she quickly put them out before standing on trembling legs. Arthur sagged in relief. Good. Good. Merlin was fine. There was still time. 

“He's more powerful than she thought.” Jeremy said quietly, watching as Morgana began throwing a spell back at Merlin. This one seemed to be a burst of lightning, and it barely caught Merlin's sleeve as he scurried out of the way in typical Merlin fashion. 

“Do you think – can he - ?” Arthur couldn't get the question out, as if putting the words to life would effect the outcome of the battle. He turned to look at Amethyst, who seemed to share his fear, and then to Jeremy, who looked thoughtful.

“Morgana is not as powerful as he is, but he's come into this wounded. It could go either way at this point.” With a sigh, he continued, “Morgana has a fierce hatred to guide her, but Merlin, from what I gather, is just as protective of Camelot. The best we can do is come up with an alternative solution, if Morgana comes out ahead.”

The way he said it was so flat, and Arthur had a hard time deciding if it was a force distance to keep himself emotionally whole, or if he truly saw this as a game of chess, the pieces only as important as their contribution to the win. He didn't have time to get angry now, although he badly wanted to throttle the man for his insensitive thoughts. 

“Are you strong enough to deal with the other sorcerers?” Arthur asked quietly, thinking of how his knights might be fairing against the magic. That was his next priority, after Morgana: making sure as many of his men came out alive as possible. 

Jeremy thought for a moment before he sighed. “I can't say I'll be able to stop them, but I'll try.”

“Please.” Arthur turned to Amethyst. “Can you stop your men?”

“I was trying as I came over here.” She answered. “Many laid down their arms, I believe, but there are a good number loyal to Morgana beyond her lies.”

“We can handle it. We'll spread the word to disarm, not kill, in any situation possible.” He paused for a moment as Amethyst cringed slightly. “I'm afraid that's the best I can do, for now.”

“I'm aware, Arthur. Thank you.” She was a strong woman, and she stood slowly. Jeremy followed suit, and he took her hand for just a moment before running to fulfill the duty that had been given him. 

“I need you to continue to ask your men to stand down.”

“You aren't afraid I'll be killed before you can make peace with my country?” There was no bitterness in her voice, a simple statement of fact, and Arthur appreciated that. He was sure he'd catch an earful later, when their lives weren't in danger, but he could deal with that then.

“I'm more afraid we'll lose more men.” He said calmly, with more strength than he was feeling. As soon as she nodded, stood, and took off, he let his strong facade dissipate. He felt so ridiculously _weak_ , and he'd hardly done anything. He only let that weakness hold him for a moment, a moment in which he stared at the place that Morgana and Merlin were locked in a battle he didn't even want to think about. 

Merlin threw a spell at her, and she fell to her knees, gasping. Merlin stumbled backwards and his knees gave out beneath him, leaving him to crumple to the ground. Morgana saw an opportunity, and she took it: Arthur could hear Merlin's screams, even through the shield he'd erected around them. He hadn't heard anything else, but he heard this, and it had him running toward the boy even though he knew that he couldn't reach Merlin. It was seconds later that the shield broke, an audible crack echoing across the battlefield, and Morgana turned her eyes to Arthur.

M.M.M

Amethyst was loathe to part with her recently found husband, but they had no choice. She couldn't help him in what he had to do, but she could help her people. She could save them. She could stop them from throwing their lives away for nothing, from hurting Camelot and ruining any friendly relations they could have. Camelot and Amira were good allies, and they needed each other. 

But how to get her message out quickly? She didn't have time to go to each individual fight and stop it, nor did she trust the men with their battle instincts on high to not strike first. She wouldn't blame them, of course, they were in the heat of battle and prepared to defend themselves, but she wasn't ready to do yet. And not only because of her husband, but because she was the queen and she loved her people.

Her husband. The thought made her giddy inside, but she pushed it aside. She couldn't afford giddiness. Giddiness caused a lack of focus, an inability to monitor everything happening around her effectively.

The message. She stopped to tell one of her men, and he listened. She stopped to tell another, and he continued fighting. She supposed it was one way to discover who was truly loyal to Amira, but she wished it wasn't necessary. 

For every two knights who listened, there was at least one who didn't. Some flat out didn't believe her, assuming she was under the control of some other power. Some spat words of hate, exclaiming that Morgana should be the ruler of Amira. Those called the queen some nasty names, although it was nothing she hadn't heard before. It just hurt coming from the people she thought were her loyal subjects. 

She was beyond relieved when she ran into Bryce, who was also attempting to carefully coax her knights into seeing the truth. He wasn't quite as effective as the queen; it was easy to disbelieve a knight who was easily swayed than the queen herself. But it was something, and he was having small successes. 

“Your Majesty.” He said quietly. He forsook the bow he usually afforded her, instead keeping his eyes and sword ready for anything. “How goes it?”

“Not well, but improving. Is there any way we can spread word with more speed? I'd rather be done with this mess sooner than later.”

“Not that I'm aware of, your majesty. Unless...” He paused, clearly struggling with something inside his head before he continued. “Unless you enlist the help of a magic user. I'm not sure there are any on our side, but it could help.”

Even though she was more acquainted with magic, and more accepting, than she had been in the past, the idea still made her cringe. Still, she thought through the men and women she knew to be near and on their side.

“I know only of Merlin and Jeremy, and both are busy with tasks that need immediate attention.” She didn't bother to explain her use of her husband's name, and Bryce was smart enough not to ask. “If you find someone... please, find me. We need to get this taken care of, and before we lose the entire fighting forces of both Camelot and Amira.”

Bryce only nodded and continued, sword in one hand as the other was raised in a semblance of surrender. She watched him go before doing much the same, except without the sword to keep her safe if things didn't go well. She should have nothing to fear from the Camelot knights, but that didn't mean she was safe.

M.M.M

Merlin felt the strain on his magic as he cast the spell, and he knew he couldn't withstand anymore. So when he fell to his knees, he wasn't surprised. He was surprised, however, when he felt the extreme pain burst through his body, in much the same way as it had with that boy. It was worse because he had expected the pain to be finished, had expected to go to sleep. He hadn't thought Morgana could have stayed conscious through the fire, even if she'd shielded herself, the amount of magic necessary-

The cracking in the shield seemed much too loud, hurting him more than the pain burning its way through every nerve in his body. The world grew dark around him, until the only thing he could see was Morgana. But he didn't want his last sight to be Morgana, and the rage that burned too deeply for him. So he managed to turn his face, just enough so he could see the king. He could die for the king. That was alright. It would be alright.

Arthur caught his eye, and there was fear plain on his face. Merlin assumed it was because he hadn't been able to stop Morgana, and before he could feel sorry about the way things were ending between them that he lost consciousness.

M.M.M

Arthur screamed Merlin's name as the boy's body fell slack and his eyes, so blue and so  _accepting_ , closed. The boy didn't seem to hear him, but Morgana did, and she laughed. And that made the blood boil in Arthur's veins. Despite everything, Merlin was a good man. The realization was a surprise, even though he knew it shouldn't be. Magic didn't change that. He couldn't have pretended all the times he saved someone's life or made the day better, the clumsy way he managed to make everything better. That wasn't fake. And it would be an adjustment, but he would make it. If Merlin was even alive.

“What have you done to him?” His voice was quiet, but Morgana heard it, heard the quiet rage hidden in the whisper, but it didn't daunt her in the slightest. 

“I've made your job simpler, _Arthur_.” She took a step closer to the boy, but Arthur raised his sword and took two steps to compensate. “He has magic, Arthur. Surely you didn't plan on letting him stay, anyway?”

“You just keep well enough away from him.” His voice wasn't angry. It was calm, careful, but warning. There was a threat under every word, and Morgana raised her chin at the sound of it.

“So you won't banish him for it? You'll let him continue to live in Camelot?”

“Why shouldn't I?”

“Because he has magic.”

The logic would have made sense in the past, but now it seemed extreme. “He hasn't tried to kill me.”

“Many other magic users could have said the same, and they were executed all the same. Do you hold different standards for your friend?” The grin on her face clearly said she expected a different answer than the one she received.

“Things are changing in Camelot.”

She opened her mouth so speak and stopped, frowning. “Things haven't changed in Camelot since Uther-”

“I'm not my father.” His voice was firm, strong, pointed. He wouldn't be his father any longer. He wouldn't do things just because his father had always done them. He wouldn't banish or kill his friend because he'd been forced to hide for so long.

“You're growing up. But it's too late, Arthur.” She frowned as she muttered and threw a spell at him, and he could only stand and wait for it. He couldn't get out of the way in time, if it was even possible to do so.

Before the magic could hit him, something shimmered before his eyes and a loud crack with a flash of light burst in front of him. He staggered backwards, holding a hand over his eyes to protect them as best he could. When he opened them again, Morgana was lying on the ground, her eyes closed and her clothes smoking. Arthur stared for a few moments before he looked to Merlin, who was still out cold but now with an arm stretched toward the king. 

Arthur wasted no time moving to his servant, his friend, his sorcerer. He knelt next to the boy and, after hesitating for a moment, turned him so he laid on his back, head propped on Arthur's knees.

“Merlin, come on. Wake up.” He said quietly, watching as the boy's face remained perfectly still. Arthur placed two fingers on Merlin's neck, waiting, praying, hoping, until he felt the faint pulse there. He released the fear in a heavy sigh, even though he realized a lot could still happen. Despite the relative quiet where he was, there was still a battle raging. And Merlin didn't seem to be doing very well.

He was afraid to move the boy, afraid to do more damage, so he sat, hoping that Amethyst and Jeremy would be able to stop most of the battle from continuing, and his knights could finish the rest. 

He glanced up at Morgana. So long as she stayed out, they would be able to finish it. If she wasn't there to rally the troops, perhaps they would lose the drive to fight. At any rate, they would suffer without a leader to help them keep the battle moving. His knights would know what to do without him, he had no doubt, but Morgana's men didn't seem to have the training or the drive to do the same.

So he sat with Merlin, hearing the sounds of metal on metal and the pained yells of the injured and dying as a distant noise. He watched Merlin's face, taking it all in with new eyes; this boy had hidden such a huge secret behind this face. The awkward ears that were a little too large, the haircut that always looked a little too choppy, the cheekbones sharp enough to cut and the eyes that were such a deep, innocent blue beneath the closed lids. Even the gold he'd witnessed not so long ago had never felt evil. It had been shocking, more than he could deal with at the time, but his friend, his clumsy, idiot friend, could still be seen in them.

“Merlin, come on, wake up. There's just a bit more work to do, just a little while longer, and then we can rest. But I...” He couldn't admit it, even to a sleeping Merlin, but he was sure the boy would have seen it in his face. He needed Merlin. He needed the frank, honest opinions and the sly protection. The stupid jokes and the stupid looks and the stupid everything. Everything that was Merlin was necessary in Camelot.

“Tired.” It was just a single word, hardly a breath, but it was Merlin, and Arthur felt the small, hopeful smile on his face despite his attempt to keep it away. 

“Yeah, well, so'm I.”

“Hurts.”

“I know, Merlin. And you've done well. But you at least need to get to the castle, get somewhere safe. Can you... get up? Walk?”

Merlin was quiet and absolutely still for a moment, and Arthur felt a moment of panic before Merlin shook his head.

“Okay. That's fine. We'll get you back, just... be strong.”

“Always am.” There was a hint of the joking Merlin in those words, and relief Arthur hadn't realized he needed flooded through him. 

“I'm going to pick you up, alright? It might hurt, but you'll get through it.”

Merlin nodded, and he could tell the boy was braced for more pain than Arthur thought he could be in. But the magic must have really taken it's toll, on top of the still too fresh torture wounds he'd gotten from Morgana. So he had to hold himself together as Merlin tried and failed to do the same. The pain on the boy's face hurt him too much. He had to be strong still, until the threat to the kingdom – and Merlin – was through.

Percival found him as he was returning to the castle, Merlin's body tense with pain in his arms, and the man silently drew his sword and guarded the pair. Arthur was grateful, knowing there was no way he could protect Merlin if faced with an enemy.

It hurt even more when they met Gwaine, standing between them and the safety that Merlin so desperately needed. The look in his eyes, clearly not one that belonged there, was a dagger in the king's heart, and it was worse when Percival volunteered quietly to stay behind, to keep Gwiane occupied while they made a break for it. He didn't want to do that to his knight, didn't want to force him to potentially wound or kill their friend, but he could see no alternative if Merlin was to survive. So He ran when Percival said run, and he cringed as he heard their swords make contact behind him. But Merlin had to be safe. Then he would find a way to save Gwaine.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting close close close. Hope you're enjoying so far, and I hope you will continue to enjoy as I begin to finish the story!


	28. Chapter 28

Percival was very conflicted as he watched Gwaine begin to move with a cat-like grace that was very unlike the usually rambunctious knight. It was clear that this wasn't the friend they knew, but it was still his face, and he still existed somewhere inside this impostor. That meant he didn't want to hurt him, shouldn't cause any lasting damage and do his best not to cause a lot of pain. But he felt a strange kind of anger burning steadily inside him at whatever was using Gwaine's body, and that part of him wanted to kill. It went against everything he stood for, and was completely out of character. But for some reason, the fact that it was Gwaine being hurt changed things.

So when Percival took the few steps toward Gwaine, he had to hold himself back. He could feel the desire to deal a fatal blow building up inside him, and he pushed it down with memories with Gwaine that he didn't want to be the last. Things they had done in the past, both good times and hard, that he couldn't have done without. And that was what kept him from lashing out when he felt the sting of the blade across his thigh, when he heard the harsh chuckle that was so unlike Gwaine's, when he heard muttered words about his competence.

He got Gwaine deep in the shoulder, a clean cut that Gaius could fix. It might pain the other knight for years to come, but he'd be alive. And Gwaine was forced to switch his blade to the non-dominant hand, which gave Percival plenty of openings. He had to force himself not to take most of them, because they were blows that Gwaine wouldn't recover from. He wouldn't hurt his friend that way, even if he wasn't fighting his friend just then. He wouldn't, and he kept reminding himself of that. Because he didn't want Gwaine to lose what he'd worked so hard to get because he'd been taken advantage of.

So he fought, feeling sweat dripping down his forehead and threatening his vision. He would save Gwaine. He had to.

M.M.M

Arthur carried Merlin to the Great Hall, temporarily transformed into an infirmary where Gaius and any others with medical training were doing their best to heal what wounds they could and make the others comfortable in their last moments. When he stumbled in with Merlin in his arms, all eyes turned to him and the room went quiet. The sounds of the dying and injured punctuated the silence, made every step feel more desperate.

Gaius found him only moments later, his face awash in concern and worry as he saw his ward being carried by the king, his body limp and lifeless.

“What happened?”

“He fought Morgana.”

“He...?” Gaius seemed completely at a loss for words, and it was clear to Arthur, all of a sudden, that Gaius had known as well. Of course he had.

“With magic.”

And he could see the fear for Merlin's safety in the physician's eyes. He loved Merlin like a son, and the magic meant nothing in that. It helped to convince Arthur further that Merlin was the same clutz as always, even with magic.

“So you know.”

“Yes. And now you need to fix him up. He's not at all well, and I need him on his feet before too long. After all, I'm going to need this armor polished once the battle's over.”

There was a glint in Gaius' eyes, something akin to relief, and he nodded. “Bring him over here, I have a spare bed near the wall.”

Arthur nodded and did as he was asked, laying Merlin down gently. When he moved to rise, he felt a tug on his chain mail and looked to see Merlin clutching at him.

“Merlin, lay down.” Gaius said gently, not daring to press him back against the blanket with the wounds he hid beneath the red shirt.

“Arthur.” His voice was less than a whisper, heavy with weariness. His blue eyes fluttered open, lacking the usual mischievous luster.

“I've got to go back, Merlin.”

“Don't hurt Gwaine.”

“I won't if I can help it.”

“Don't hurt him.”

“Merlin, if he doesn't stop attacking, I won't have a choice.”

“I'll figure out a way. Just don't hurt him.”

Arthur knew his friend was hardly conscious, that he probably wasn't even fully aware of the words he was saying. But he nodded. “I'll do everything I can to keep him safe, Merlin. Come up with a plan to fix him, when you're up to it.”

Merlin nodded, his eyes closing. “I'll do that.” His breathing evened out as he fell asleep, under Gaius already busy hands.

“He'll be alright?” Arthur asked quietly.

“I believe so, sire. He's exhausted from his wounds and using his magic, but he'll recover, with time.”

Arthur nodded, and was turning to leave when Gaius spoke. “You're not going to hurt him because of his magic, are you?”

Arthur looked over his shoulder to see the concern, deep in his eyes and in the posture he took in front of Merlin.

“Of course not, Gaius. I couldn't do that to Merlin.”

The physician nodded, although he didn't seem entirely convinced. Arthur was ashamed of that, but he didn't have time to reassure and convince Gaius of his intentions. He had to get this battle finished, Morgana dealt with, and get everything sorted so Merlin wouldn't have to worry about his safety in Camelot.

Arthur hurried back outside, ducking immediately as a spell flew over his head and hit the castle wall behind him. He continued forward, noting that Jeremy had noticed the stray sorcerer and had used a spell to knock him down. Arthur didn't want to know if the man who had attacked him was dead or just unconscious. He didn't want any more deaths on his conscious than he already had.

Percival was struggling with Gwaine. Both were bleeding, although Percival seemed to have more scrapes than Gwaine. Arthur assumed that was because Percival was trying very hard not to hurt his friend badly, but the king hoped that it didn't end up getting Percival killed.

Arthur saw a few of his men watching the battle between Percival and Gwaine, clearly confused as to what was going on and with nothing better to do. When they saw Arthur, they immediately bowed and greeted him. He didn't have time for formalities, so he immediately began speaking.

“Why aren't you fighting?” He demanded, hoping he knew the answer. The first man – Thomas, he remembered – looked at him blankly for a moment before shaking himself.

“Not many left to fight, sire. Loads of 'em just took off all of a sudden. Those that stayed are mostly dealt with. Why-?”

“Go search for others that are still alive, be they our side or the enemy. Get any seriously wounded to Gaius immediately. That's an order.” He wouldn't let them ask about Gwaine, wasn't entirely sure how to explain it away just yet. He'd have to think through his options.

In the meantime, he'd do as Merlin had asked. Because not only did Merlin deserve as much, but he wanted much the same thing. Gwaine had become a very important part of Camelot, just like so many others, and he couldn't imagine going on hunts, on missions, even just wandering the castle without the man. So he joined Percival, slowly circling, and Gwaine snarled. Actually _snarled,_ like a dog caught in a trap. Arthur frowned, and his quick glance to Percival showed much the same reaction. 

It was seconds later that Percival made his move, taking the steps forward with his sword raised while Gwaine's attention was on Arthur. He was so close to knocking their friend out so they could take him away when Gwaine turned, catching sight of Percival and blocking the attack he'd been aiming, unleashing one of his own that caught Percival across the chest. The bigger man stumbled and fell to one knee, curling with a hand to the long wound as he panted. Arthur didn't think as he lunged forward, and he felt the pain before he realized what had happened.

M-M-M

It was a long while of running around and spreading the word before Amethyst found herself with Jeremy again, who was drawn and hardly able to stay on his feet. She ran the distance to him, ignoring the sound of wet ground beneath her feet. She reached him just as he fell, and she fell with him. There was a half smile on her face as concern battled her excitement at being with him again, and excitement won as he opened his eyes and smiled at her.

“Hello, my love.” He said quietly, his eyes taking in every bit of her as she did the same. “Been a while.”

“Too long.” She answered, pushing the hair off of his forehead. He was exhausted, bruised, drenched in a mixture of sweat and blood, but he was alive. And after so long of knowing he was dead, even after the hours she'd had to come to terms with his presence, it was too much for her to handle. She could feel the tears dripping down her face as she pulled his head into her lap and laughed quietly. 

“Amethyst, I'm sorry-”

“Not now, alright? We have time.”

He nodded, the small smile on his face remaining even after his eyes closed once more and he fell into a deep sleep. She would have been shocked, if she hadn't known that was how he recovered. If she hadn't seen it happen to him a few times while they were together and happy. She hadn't realized that was what it was, then, she had assumed he had some sort of illness that he didn't want to speak of. But now she knew, and it made sense, and it was a deep sense of happiness that she did understand.

She waited until a knight found her to do anything, almost as exhausted as her husband – her husband! - must have been. She had Bryce pick up Jeremy, and despite a slight shake he did so. They were all so tired, and Amethyst was glad she was on friendly terms with Arthur; there was no way they were returning back to Amira for a short while, not until they had recuperated. She followed Bryce to the castle, watching as knights in Camelot's colors searched the battlefield for survivors. She was glad Arthur had thought to do that. Or perhaps it was something the knights of Camelot did on their own. Whatever the case, she found a renewed surge of pride for what Arthur was accomplishing, the same as she had felt when he had first learned to ride, or had been knighted. The boy had grown so much in the time she had known him, and he was growing still more. 

When they reached the castle entrance, she was shocked to see Gwaine, out and about, fighting Percival. She watched as Arthur came out, saw Percival wounded and then Arthur – no, stupid boy, don't react on impulse, plan-

She didn't have a chance to say anything as she watched the blade sink deeply into Arthur's torso, saw his eyes widen as he lost control of his body and fell to the ground, sword still deeply embedded in his body.

“Get him inside, Bryce, now. And I require your sword.” Her voice was scarily calm, and Bryce did exactly as she asked without demanding to know she'd be safe as he usually would. There were few that knew the tone the Queen had taken, and fewer who knew to simply do as she asked. 

She held the sword before her as she took careful steps towards the knight who had just sent his king to the ground. A battle raged inside her, a fierce desire to protect the man she might have loved and the man she had watched grow up. But Arthur was the one on the ground, struggling for breath, and Gwaine was the one on his feet. 

She took another step and Gwaine turned toward her, his eyes wild and pained. He took two half steps toward her before raising his hands and falling to his knees, tears on his face leaving tracks through the blood and grime that had accumulated there. Her resolve crumbled slightly as he begged.

“Please, save him. Kill me, but save him.”

She looked at Percival, who was not as badly wounded as she'd thought. He was struggling to his feet, one hand pressed to the wound and sword in his other hand. 

It was a storm of thoughts in her mind, but finally Percival reached Gwaine, sheathed his sword, and set a hand on the man's shoulder. Gwaine looked at him, then lowered his head. 

“I'll take him to the dungeons.” He said quietly. Amethyst shook her head, still holding the sword. This man had hurt the king. He was worthy of the execution that would have awaited any other member of the castle. Amira was strict when it came to royalty, and she wasn't even sure Arthur was alive. But the pain in his eyes... that was all Gwaine. And it was the same Gwaine that had joked with her, gotten close to her, broken down the walls she'd built since she'd thought her husband murdered. It was that Gwaine that she couldn't sentence to death, even if everything in her screamed that he deserved it. So she took a deep breath, attempting to steal her resolve.

“Please take him.” She said quietly. “And then seek medical attention.”

She wasn't sure, but she thought maybe Percival hurried to get away from her. Perhaps he was concerned she would change her mind, and he would have to fight her. Because she didn't doubt she would have to fight to kill Gwaine, both herself and the other knights.

When she glanced at Arthur, she had enough time to order someone to help him before the events of the day, the shocks and the exhaustion and the emotion, spilled over her like a wave and she lost track of what was happening. She embraced the darkness.

M-M-M

Gaius had finally finished re-bandaging his ward. It had been a lot of blood, a lot of broken scabs and new bruises, but he'd be fine. As always, Merlin would suffer, but he'd live. It was a relief, as always, but this time seemed stronger. The boy had suffered much more in the past month than he had ever had to deal with, and Gaius had been afraid the strain would be too much for the lanky body. But here he was, asleep, healing from the events.

It was truly a miracle.

Gaius was busy bandaging another man nearby when he heard Merlin moan. All the worst possible things shifted through his head in the seconds before he turned and saw Merlin's eyes open, but they weren't focused. Gaius hurried over, his hands against Merlin's neck to check his pulse, but it was completely calm.

“Arthur. Gaius, Arthur.” With those words, his eyes closed once more and he seemed to be completely unconscious once more.

“Gaius!” He heard the yell coming, and turned to see the king being carried into the room, a blade still in a fresh, very bad wound.

Arthur.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! The climax! I'm planning two more chapters, to end on a solid 30, and then it will be finished! I hope you stick around, and thank you for your lovely reviews, they mean the world to me!


	29. Chapter 29

Arthur Pendragon hated mornings.

It really didn't matter what morning, he hated it. He hated being roused from sleep, he hated having to get up and get dressed, he hated the responsibilities he would be forced to do. Once he was out of bed, of course, it wasn't as bad as it had seemed, and he enjoyed what the day brought him. But those minutes in bed just before he was forced to rise were the worst.

He groaned as he felt awareness returning to him, light piercing his eyes despite closed lids. Ten more minutes, or at least five. Just a little while longer, and then he'd get up. He wouldn't even throw anything at Merlin when the boy pulled open the curtains, if only he could sleep for a little longer.

It was a slight shock when he felt pain in his gut, but soon enough he felt a mild relief set in. He could skip today, claim illness. It wouldn't even be a lie, and Gaius could confirm it with his father.

No wait. His father had passed on. He was the king. Why was he trying to justify his illness when he was the one in charge?

But that was exactly why he couldn't just stay in bed all day. He would have to push through it, take care of his business, and then retire early to get some extra rest. Gwen would insist that he stay in bed if he was ill, but he couldn't afford that. There was too much he needed to accomplish, and he wanted to finish at least some of it so there wasn't a pile when he returned. Well, so the pile wouldn't be as large when he returned.

He went to sit up and the pain worsened immeasurably. He groaned and felt firm hands on his shoulders, and his mind went reeling. What was going on? Who was there, and what were they doing? There shouldn't be anyone besides his wife, and perhaps Merlin, in his chambers, and they certainly shouldn't be restraining him. He wanted to thrash, but the pain was too great.

He smelled something that irritated the hair in his nose and made him want to sneeze, but he didn't. Slowly, he felt his body grow relaxed, and he felt his mind pulling back into sleep. It should have worried him, of course, but he was too far gone to care. He just wanted sleep. Ten more minutes, or at least five.

M.M.M

Percival, Leon, and Elyan were all required to hold the king still as he began to wake, much too soon. They hadn't had a chance to disinfect or properly bandage the wounds, but he was trying to sit up. Clearly he wasn't completely conscious of his actions, because he muttered something about Merlin being hit. In some back part of Gaius mind where he wasn't desperately trying to keep the king alive, he wished that Merlin had been awake to hear it.

It was only after Gaius resorted to a burning herb that Arthur calmed down and fell back into sleep, unaware of the terrible injury he'd suffered. Gaius immediately set to work, sending the knights away to tend to their own wounds and get some rest. They protested, of course; they wouldn't be knights of Camelot if they didn't protest leaving an injured friend. But eventually they relented, realizing how in the way and unnecessary they truly were in Gaius' efforts.

It was hours later that Gaius was finally satisfied that the king would survive through the initial injury. There was always the chance of infection or other complications, but he could do nothing about that now.

He heard Amethyst enter the room, even though she was trying to be silent. He wasn't sleeping, not with the countless men and some women that needed his attention. Not with Merlin and Arthur both asleep with wounds they shouldn't have in his rooms. So the small cough she gave him as warning was completely unnecessary, although he appreciated the effort.

“Jeremy needed his medicine, but he fell asleep before he could get here.” She said quietly, smiling apologetically.

“Quite understandable.” Gaius stood and began rummaging through the various bottles he'd pulled for various treatments after the battle. He really needed to take the time to neaten it up and make it simpler on himself, but he was too tired to deal with that at the moment. Later, he kept telling himself. In just a bit, when he felt more up to it, he'd do it.

When he found the right bottle, he offered it to her, but her eyes had wandered to the King on a small cot by the fire, and Merlin a few feet away. Gaius had them both moved to his room once he was sure they would make the trip, because Merlin belonged here and he wanted to keep Arthur close, just to be safe.

“Merlin told me Arthur would come for him. I didn't believe it.” She said quietly, watching the boys sleep silently as they healed from injuries. She glanced at Gaius, who had paused at her words. “Is it just Merlin? Or is he that way with everyone?”

Gaius thought over his next words carefully. “A little of both, I suppose.” He finally answered, a small smile curling the corners of his mouth as he spoke fondly. “He and Merlin have a strong bond, but Arthur cares about all of his people. He's-”

“Different from Uther. I've gathered.” She was quiet for a long moment before she smiled. “Good. Camelot is in good hands.”

“So long as-” He stopped himself. He didn't need to burden the queen with the darker possibilities, and he shouldn't dwell on them anyway. Arthur would pull through, just like always.

_But Merlin isn't able to save him this time._

Gaius pushed the thought away. Both boys would be fine, with time.

“They're lucky to have you.” Amethyst muttered, and Gaius realized with a start that he'd not been controlling his emotions. He smiled gently at the queen.

“You've done a lot for this kingdom as well, your majesty.” He gave her a small bow, and she nodded.

“Thank you Gaius.” She left quickly and just as quietly as she'd entered. No one tried to speak with her as she walked, and she was sure it was the determined air with which she carried herself. It wasn't intentional; it was a reaction to the turmoil circling within, to hide it until she could deal with it.

When she arrived at the rooms they'd been given in the castle, Jeremy was still asleep. She watched him for a while, the gentle breathing as his body recovered from what had happened to him. He was a beautiful man, and even more so because she'd loved him so much and missed him so long. But there was something else she needed to solve, for herself if not for her husband.

There was minimal questioning when she showed up at the dungeons, because apparently the guards weren't feeling brave enough to discuss her presence for long. When she found Gwaine in the cell, his hands bound together, she felt a twinge of pain in her chest as she saw the once proud posture slumped in defeat. He didn't even look up when she stopped, staring instead at the hands that rested in front of him.

“Gwaine.” Her voice was quiet, but she knew he heard it by the way his shoulders slumped further, if that was possible. It hurt, but she didn't let that show. Even if he wouldn't have seen it. She steadied herself and said his name again, louder.

“Highness.” He said quietly.

“How are you feeling?”

He glanced up at her then, through layers of knotted hair. Then he returned his gaze to his hands and shrugged. “Like myself.”

“Isn't that good?”

“I suppose it is.”

His words were missing the lilt that came with his joking personality, and they fell painfully flat and insincere. She felt the frown on her face and didn't try to stop it. He wasn't looking at her anyway, it seemed.

“Do you feel...”

“I can't tell if it's still there. Gaius already asked me.”

“I can ask Jeremy-”

“No.”

She was startled by his sudden rejection, and it took her a moment to ask, “Why? He's a good man, he'll do whatever he can-”

“I don't trust him.”

“Why not?” There was anger layered just under the hurt in her voice, an indignation that made little sense.

“I don't know him.”

“I do.”

“Do I really know you?”

And there it was. And he was right. That was why she had to ask, to settle things once and for all.

“Did you love me?”

It was his turn to pause, completely still, but she could see the way his mind worked. How to turn down a queen. She would have laughed, if it didn't hurt.

“I could have.”

“But I have a husband.”

“Yes.”

“I never thought that would stop you.”

He let out a harsh chuckle, surprised out of him by the ridiculous situation he was in and the way she so casually brought it up. “It wouldn't have.”

“Except?”

Gwaine took a deep breath. “He's a good guy, and I know when I'm beat.”

“Do you?”

“I do.”

“I'm sorry, Gwaine.”

“I know.”

There wasn't anymore to say, and Amethyst took a few steps away from the cell. It was hard to pull herself away, she'd become invested in what they'd had for a short time. But she knew she would go back to Jeremy, because he was hers, and she was his.

“Thank you.” She wasn't sure why she was thanking him. Maybe for the time he'd given her, the piece of his heart he wouldn't get back, the way he let her go. But he seemed to understand, because he nodded and met her eyes again, a small smile on his lips that couldn't be called happy.

M.M.M

Castle life continued, although it was stunted and halting without the king. Gaius informed everyone that Arthur slept for his own good, to regain his strength and heal properly and well. He didn't let them know about the moments when he woke, convinced that he was still in the battle. When he sobbed about the pain, or begged to help Merlin. He gave the king a near constant supply of pain killers and sleeping potions, in the hopes that he wouldn't move too much and cause more strain to the wound. Often it wasn't enough, and he would be forced to have Percival or one of the other knights help him.

Merlin slept for a solid week before he drowsily opened his eyes, muttering about Arthur's armor needing a good polish and he knew who should polish it.

“Merlin.” Gaius voice was full of relief, and the warlock frowned for a moment before the memories all flood back through him. He sat up straight, looking everywhere with fear on his face. Morgana was bound to be around somewhere, lurking, waiting for an opportunity, he had to save Arthur-

“Merlin! Settle down, you're still weak-”

“Morgana, where is she? She was-”

“Gone.”

“Gone?”

“Gone.”

Merlin let himself be coaxed back against a mound of pillows as he processed the information. “What do you mean, gone?”

“She disappeared. No one has found her.”

“She's not dead.”

“I fear that's probably true.”

Merlin took a deep breath and nodded. “But she'll stay away for a while.”

“You have time to heal, Merlin. Let yourself.”

It didn't take much convincing for the boy to lay down and relax, because the pain still residing in his wounds was a bit more than he could take. He'd put his body through a lot of strain in the past little while, and it was protesting mightily now that there wasn't any immediate danger.

“Where's Arthur?”

Gaius was quiet for a moment, and Merlin could see the hesitation as clearly as if it was his own.

“Gaius. What's happened?” His voice didn't bother to hide the fear or desperation, because nothing was more important than making sure his king was alright.

“After he brought you to me, he was very badly wounded.”

“How badly?” He didn't miss that Gaius was attempting to hide the worst of the news from him, and he had a sinking feeling that he already knew. Oh, he was denying it with every fiber of his being, but it still whispered through his mind. Arthur had died. Merlin hadn't been able to save him, Morgana had gotten him and everything had been for naught.

“He's not been coherent when he's woken. He keeps breaking the scab and losing blood. I can't make him calm.”

“He's not...” Merlin closed his eyes as relief washed over him. So he could still do something. He could still save his prat of a friend. That was, if Arthur was still willing to let him live in Camelot, if the revelation of his magic hadn't permanently torn that bond. But that was secondary to making sure Arthur lived.

Merlin began pushing himself up again, his eyes wandering over the room for the king. When his eyes found the blonde, he looked much different from the king Merlin had grown used to. His face looked so soft in sleep, but he was a far sight paler than usual, his hair was mussed where it touched the pillow and slick where it clung to his forehead with sweat.

“Merlin, lay back down.” Gaius scolded, pressing gently against Merlin's tender shoulders.

“I have to help him-”

“There's nothing more you can do for him right now. You're too weak to be much help. Rest. Before I make you.”

The threat was more a promise, and Merlin knew he had a selection of sleeping drafts ready for use the moment he deemed it necessary. He settled back once more, his eyes keeping track of Arthur and the stumbling rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

“There wasn't poison or anything, was there?”

Gaius shook his head quickly, smoothing some of the frown lines on Merlin's face. “It was just a bad wound, and I'm still watching for infection. But he's doing as well as I expected.”

“And...” Merlin wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he had to ask. “How did it...?”

That seemed to make Gaius slouch more than discussing the injuries the king had sustained. Merlin frowned, afraid he knew the answer, unsure how it could have happened.

“Gwaine had escaped from the dungeon and... it was clear to everyone that it wasn't something he wanted to do, and he begged for the king to be saved once it was finished. There will be no charges pressed against him, once we've made sure the curse has run its course.”

“Is he-?”

“He's shown no more signs, but he's still being held in the dungeons.”

Merlin began to pull himself up, and Gaius sighed heavily. “Merlin, if you would please hold still and rest-”

“I'm going to see him.”

“I was afraid you'd say that.”

Merlin sat up and threw his legs over the side, ignoring the small pains that broke out along all of the old wounds and the larger pain from where he'd taken Morgana's attacks. Gaius stepped out of the room, and moments later Percival stepped into the room. He arrived at Merlin's side just as the sorcerer stumbled, catching him easily and offering him a steadying arm. Merlin thanked him quietly, glancing at Gaius with the tips of his ears burning red. But he didn't mind much that Percival remained by his side even when he was walking – limping – on his own, and Gaius didn't seem ready to stop him. He must have seen how important it was in Merlin's eyes.

He didn't know that Merlin was determined to do everything he could for the kingdom before Arthur was forced to banish or execute him. He'd leave the castle in good shape, so Arthur would have to deal with as much. He'd have enough to deal with when he woke, anyway.

He wouldn't blame Arthur when it happened. He was strangely prepared for it, ready to accept whatever fate awaited him. He'd done what he was supposed to do. He'd saved Arthur. Maybe, with time, Arthur would realize that was the only thing his magic was for, that not all magic was evil, and that would bring about the changes that Albion so desperately needed.

Percival only offered help when Merlin stumbled and couldn't correct it himself, which the boy appreciated. He wanted to do it on his own, something he'd been struggling with for much too long.

“Alright?” The knight asked after a while in silence, letting Merlin get the hang of walking again after a week of sleep.

“I'm fine.”

And unlike Arthur, Percival accepted that it wasn't entirely the truth but it was what Merlin chose to believe. Had to believe, to keep himself going.

When he saw Gwaine, it hurt a little. The knight clearly remembered the events that had occurred, what had happened at his hands but not by his will. It showed in his posture, in the way he stared at a single spot in front of him, his complete ignorance of Merlin's presence.

“Gwaine.” The man's head shot up at Merlin's words, and there was a ghost of the smile the sorcerer was used to seeing on the knight's face. It wasn't near as wide as usual, and there was clearly a deep sense of self-loathing beneath it, but at least he wasn't completely ruined by the events he'd been forced to live through.

“Merlin. Alright?”

“Fine. You?”

“I've been better. You here to make sure...?”

Merlin nodded, and Gwaine stood and made his way closer to the bars.

“What do you need me to do?”  
“Just stand still.” Merlin answered, reaching for the magic that had lain mostly dormant for the week he'd been asleep. It came easily at his call, and he used it to reach into Gwaine to find the darkness that had been present before. When he found nothing, he sighed in relief and met the questioning look in Gwaine's eyes.

“Is it there?” He asked quietly.

“It's gone.” He hoped. He'd been wrong before, but now it felt... different. Clean. Whole.

Some of the heaviness lifted from Gwaine's shoulders, and some of the spark returned to his eyes. But there was still a lot of pain in him, and Merlin understood. He wouldn't try to make Gwaine feel better, not right now. That was something only Arthur would be able to do, and once he had received forgiveness from the King, Merlin would offer encouragement.

“You'll have to wait until Arthur...”

“Yeah.”

Merlin watched as Gwaine went back to his spot on the floor, leaning against the wall. After a moment, Merlin sat down with only minimal assistance from Percival, who did the same once Merlinw as situated.

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting with you.”

“Shouldn't you be helping Arthur?” The pain in those words was tangible, and Merlin's resolve hardened. He didn't think the knight should be alone right now, and it was with slight surprise that Percival gave voice to his words.

“You need help, too.”

And Gwaine accepted that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! But here's the second to last chapter. I hope. I might end up having more loose ends than I can tie in one more chapter, but I hope to. I'd much prefer to end on an even numbered chapter. Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think!


	30. Chapter 30

Merlin was feeling much better after a week of sitting, laying, lounging, in general being unable to do what it was that he wanted to do.

He'd insisted to Gaius, Gwaine, Percival, Gwen, and basically anyone who would listen that he was fine, he could start doing his job and recovering the damage that was done to the castle. Not with magic, of course. That was the other thing he continuously had to assure people. It was a sensitive topic, with no one quite sure what to do, and it was best to draw as little attention as possible. There were many who had no idea that Merlin had magic, even still, although it had come as a huge surprise to the boy. He'd been sure the moment he used it in public, there would be some sort of mass knowledge immediately, and everyone would hate him for it. So the fact that no one was demanding his head or that he be burned was miraculous.

He'd managed to convince everyone he was well enough to at least check on the state of Arthur's chambers, since that was technically his job. For now. But he hadn't let himself think about that, and he would continue to ignore it until it was demanded something be done, and only by the king himself.

He'd promised he wouldn't do anything, he was just supposed to look and return. But when he opened the doors and saw the only damage from the battle was a broken window, he began tidying the mess that Arthur had left behind. Shirts on the floor, an unmade bed, some overturned bowls with rotting fruit on the table. Clearly no one had thought to check in here. Gwen had made camp in Gaius chambers as well, on a bed they'd had brought into Merlin's room. It was very cramped, but no one wanted to leave Arthur alone.

As he was cleaning, he decided he should also call someone in to clean up the window and have a replacement brought. When he turned to find someone, he was surprised to see Jeremy just inside the door. After he calmed himself down, he nodded to the sorcerer and asked, “How are you?”

“'m doin' well.” The man smiled at Merlin before gesturing to a seat. Merlin nodded quickly, taking a seat opposite him at the newly cleaned table. “You?”

“Fine.” It almost made him smirk every time he used the word, knowing Arthur had forbidden it. Almost. But as the king was still asleep, it pained him too much to think of it.

“Good.” There was a moment of silence, in which Jeremy stared at Merlin, a thoughtful look on his face. When Merlin started to squirm, he looked down with a small smile on his face. “I apologize.” Merlin didn't fail to notice that he'd completely lost all trace of the accent he'd had previously, when they'd first met. It made him frown and stand, magic singing through his veins as every sense went on alert.

“Who are you?” He asked, his eyes watching for any sign of change, attack or otherwise. He was too tired for this, still not back to full strength, but he'd never let that show right now. Arthur couldn't protect the kingdom, but Merlin would. He always would.

Jeremy – whoever he was – raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I'm not looking to hurt you, or your kingdom. Just wanted to... explain some things. And ask you some things.”

Merlin watched him warily for a long moment of silence. “You won't mind if I don't sit again.”

“Not at all.”

“What did you want?” Merlin asked.

“You must have questions.”

“What makes you think that?”

“While I'm sure Gaius is a great teacher, there's only so much he can teach you about an art he barely grasps himself.”

Merlin started forward, determined to defend his mentor and guardian's abilities, but before he could Jeremy began speaking again.

“I'm a sorcerer. Not of your caliber, I'm afraid, but I have devoted much of my life to honing my craft, which was born of natural talent. Even so, you are... a legend.” There was awe in his voice that made Merlin extremely uncomfortable, and he backed up to lean against a post of Arthur's bed. His fingers found the hard wood and gripped. It was a sense of his friends at his back, even if the one he most wanted there was still asleep.

“I'm just Arthur's servant.” He said carefully, unsure where this was going, how much Jeremy knew, if he was aware of the druid legends of him. He didn't want to give anything away, because he had no idea what was going to happen.

“Most everyone with magic knows your more than that, Emrys. And I thought you might have questions about some of the other magics you saw during that battle.”

“You mean like your blue flame?”

“Like my blue flame.”

“So tell me.”

Jeremy chuckled to himself. “I know why you don't trust me. But I mean you no harm.” He took a deep breath and launched into his explanation. “You've mostly met sorcerers, one of the lowest varieties of magic users. Morgana is a high priestess, a class just under your own. You're a warlock, a being made of magic, and once you've gained complete control of your magic you will be unstoppable. But there are a variety of classes that you are unaware of, that work in different ways. For you, magic is simple, a second nature, a reflex. For the High Priestesses, there is a certain level of appealing to the powers of the Old Religion to get their magic. Common sorcerers are similar to you, but it's much more difficult and takes much more energy for the simplest spell, and they must use the words or nothing will happen. Gaius is in this category. I am of the Hyacintho Flamma, literally the Blue Flame. Our magic manifests itself in that form, drawing in the magic of the environment around. It's difficult to control, and isn't as powerful as the High Priestesses powers. However, it's more than enough to deal with common sorcerers.”

“Is there another group?” Merlin asked quietly, thinking of the boy with the red eyes.

“So you met one of them?”

“I did.”

“I imagine he wasn't very nice to you.”

Merlin was silent, thinking of the hideous pain he had felt before he'd managed to stop it. He never wanted to experience that again.

“They don't have a commonly recognized name, rare as they are.”

“What do they draw their power from? Where do they rank?”

Jeremy ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “A lot of their abilities are unknown. They're secretive, only showing up when it suits their interests and never creating a lasting alliance. But I'm fairly certain they receive power from emotions.”

“Emotions?”

“There's power in an emotion. It can bind someone together or separate them for eternity. But, from what I've learned, they prefer negative emotions. Pain. Hatred. Fear. And they will only be bowed by someone of your abilities.”

“I see.”

“You needed to know.”

“Why?”

“Because many of the Hyacintho Flamma are seers, and they see one of those sanguine magic users prominently in both your future, and that of Camelot.”

“Why?”

“We don't know.”

Merlin sat in silence for a while. Should he believe him? Should he believe that more danger was coming to harm his king and kingdom? Could he afford not to? He had to be prepared for anything.

A small voice whispered that he might not be around for that. He ignored that voice.

“Why did you use that accent? When we first met?”

“A habit from my time away from the kingdom. I hadn't been in a place of high society since...” He trailed off, and Merlin saw true sadness in his eyes. He knew the story, had heard it repeated as gossip throughout the castle ever since the battle had reached its conclusion. He'd been presumed dead, killed because of his association with magic. No one though the had magic, of course, that was all very hush hush. Everyone knew he hadn't been killed, but no one knew why he'd disappeared for so long without a word.

“Why did you leave?” Merlin asked quietly, watching the man closely. He looked up at Merlin with a sad smile.

“Because of the way she'd looked at me when she found out. It was easier for her to believe I was dead than live with me knowing...” Instead of saying it, he conjured the blue flame quickly before extinguishing it.

“She's... become strangely accepting. Or, at least, she's willing to overlook it. I'm... she's an amazing woman.” The small smile on his face was so full of happiness that Merlin had to look away, sure he was intruding on some private moment.

“I had to tell you about the other magic users.” He said as he stood, drawing Merlin's gaze. “Now I must go to my Queen and return to our kingdom. Good luck, Emrys.” He gave Merlin a deep bow, making Merlin's face flush in embarrassment, before he swiftly left the room, as quietly as he'd entered, leaving Merlin alone to think on everything he'd heard.

He forgot all of it when Gwen came skidding down the hall, throwing the door open and staring at Merlin with so much joy on her face that he knew what she was going to say before she said it.

“He's awake.”

M.M.M

Arthur was aware that there were voices around him. He was aware that there were too many people in his room, and he wanted them gone. But when he recognized Gaius' voice, his mounting anger dissipated. If Gaius was involved, something must have -

Ah. Yes. The battle.

With his memories pulled to the forefront of his brain, he realized sitting up was probably not the best option. So he just opened his eyes and groaned, long and loud, as pain throbbed from his wound.

“Arthur!” Gwen's voice made him smile, even if his vision was blurry and it was difficult to tell it was her. He sighed deeply as he felt her hand in his, squeezing too tightly. But that was alright, because she had every reason to need reassurance. After all, he'd probably almost died. Probably. Gaius would tell him for sure shortly.

“Sire, how do you feel?”

“Like absolute rubbish. But alive.”

And sure enough, Gaius launched into the details of what had happened to him while he'd been out for nearly two weeks – two weeks! - to a level that Arthur truly didn't care about. But the fact that Gaius could tell him that was an improvement, at least, to his previously unconscious state.

“Gwen, if you'd go fetch Merlin-”

“Oh, I'd really rather not-” But when she saw the look on Gaius' face, she immediately nodded. “Yes, of course. I'll be right back.” She scurried out of the room, which both confused Arthur and made him sad. He turned his head a minuscule amount so Gaius would be in his vision.

“Sire, I must speak with you regarding Merlin.”

Ah, but the one thing he hadn't remembered immediately upon waking.

“How is he?”

“Pushing himself much too hard, as usual, but healing at a remarkable rate.”

“Because of his-”

“Magic. Yes. Which is what I must speak to you about. I'm aware it isn't my place to make demands, but I urge you to banish him back to Ealdor, because he's a good boy and he's only ever done good by you.”

“Why would I-” Arthur had forgotten how adamant he'd always been that magic was wrong for a moment. After seeing Merlin so thoroughly defending him from evil using that magic, it was difficult for him to have the same opinions. And maybe it would be different if it had been someone else, someone he hadn't grown so close to. The realization that Gaius was only doing what he thought was best for Merlin made him regret some of the anger he'd held towards magic users over the years.

“He's stuck around only because he cares deeply about you, he's been helping me tend your injury when he's been able, and all he wants is for you to get well enough to rule your kingdom again. He'll leave of his own free will, he just-”

“I can't do that.” He answered Gaius, and he knew he should have started with something else, judging by the great sadness and mild horror on the man's face. “Because I still need him at court. As my manservant.” The quick amend seemed to freeze the old physician, and finally his expression turned quizzical.

“You won't...?”

“I won't.”

And then the wave of relief washed over Gaius so hard that he was forced to sit down, his eyes oozing gratefulness toward the king.

“We'll speak about arrangements later. When I'm not confined to a bed, perhaps. I'll need both you and Merlin around for that.”

“Of course, sire.”

And before anymore could be said, Merlin burst through the door, not pausing as he moved to sit by Arthur's side. He was panting, and his face was a little pale, but the beaming smile on his face washed away those things. “How do you feel?” He asked, no concern for himself in those words.

“Like rubbish. I've said that once already, keep up.”

“You'd better start now, you have two weeks of being a prat to make up for.”

If Arthur didn't think it would hurt him more than Merlin, he would have swiped at the boy. Instead, he made a face that conveyed very well his desired actions, and Merlin's grin only stretched further.

“You're alright?” Arthur's voice had gained a serious edge as he demanded with his eyes that Merlin be honest with him.

“Yeah. Good. No lasting effects.”

“You're not lying to me?”

“Of course not, sire, would I lie to you?” That cheeky grin begged to be wiped off of his face, but Arthur only sighed and rolled his eyes.

“See that you don't overwork yourself. You went through a lot.”

“Yeah.”

In the silence that followed, Merlin's face slowly sank into uncomfortable anticipation. Arthur knew what he thought, and he was voicing it before Arthur could tell him otherwise.

“Listen, I'll be leaving right after this. I've packed most of my stuff already, and I have a letter to send ahead. Unless... Well, it's up to you, now. I've got another letter planned, if... you know.” The resignation in Merlin's voice was what scared Arthur the most. Had he really proved that he would kick Merlin out now, or worse... he didn't even want to think it, not now. Not when Merlin's face was expecting the worst news.

“You won't be able to take leave to go home, Merlin. You've got a lot of time to make up for.”

“E- excuse me?”

“I mean, you've had a very long break from your duties. There's bound to be a layer of dust in my rooms, and I'm sure there's laundry to be done and certainly armor to be polished. I think I put a hole in one of my boots, as well, that will need mending.”

“I - “ The astonished look on Merlin's face and the subsequent grin was enough to prove to Arthur that he wasn't a bad person. Magic wasn't evil. It might take his kingdom a lot more convincing, and perhaps nothing would happen for a long time. But Merlin wasn't going anywhere, and that was that.

M.M.M

It was months before Arthur was back at peak performance, and Merlin was there to help him every step of the way. He'd even offered to attempt to heal the king with magic, but that was still too far for the king. And he'd taken it gracefully, accepting that it would take time for Arthur to adjust. But he was trying. Merlin and Gaius were attempting to teach him about magic, what they knew, what they speculated, and what Merlin could do. That he'd been born with it, and that it was as much a part of him as being king was part of Arthur. The theory went completely over Arthur's head, but he was sure he would get it, with time. And now it seemed they had time. No one was attacking, there was no imminent threat. Amethyst and Jeremy had renegotiated peace between them, calming the people of both Camelot and Amira, and they'd returned home to a glad welcome.

Everything was going well, and Merlin occasionally had to pinch himself to be sure he wasn't dreaming. Everything was too perfect, albeit slow moving, as they thought through plan after plan on how to break the news to the kingdom. But they were getting there. Albion was becoming the place that Merlin knew it could be.

The nagging of Jeremy's warning was a constant companion, but most days the warlock pretended it wasn't there. He didn't want to think of anything ruining this peace.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading the entirety of this fic! It's been so fun to write, and I've so loved your comments and kudos. 
> 
> I'm planning a sequel to this series, and while I'm not sure when I'll get to it, it will come. And in it will be much more angst. But thanks again, and I hope you'll stick around to read the sequel!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This story literally has come from my strange love of Merlin!whump stories and the hole that the end of Merlin has left in my heart. If you have any suggestions, please, do tell. I'm not sure what exactly I'm going to do with this story, so any ideas are good ideas at this point!
> 
> But really. Thanks.


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